


All the hearts I’ve turned to hate

by LostBoy626



Series: Endgame FIXIT (Starker) [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BoyxBoy, Complete, Don’t read if you don’t want Jesus to eventually smit you., F/F, F/M, Fix It, Holy water will be offered in later chapters, I WONT PUT TAGS TO SAVE THOSE WHO HAVENT SEEN IT, M/M, Major Spoilers, Major character death - Freeform, Mentions or Venom, Multi, Starker, Summary in chapter notes, endgame spoilers, post Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-03-20 15:25:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostBoy626/pseuds/LostBoy626
Summary: SUMMARY IN NOTES TO SAVE THOSE WHO HAVENT SEEN ENDGAME FROM HAVING IT SPOILED.*Loosely follows the events of endgame, but not entirely. Major fix it!*~~~~“Stop!” My head twitched to the left, watching as a hunched figure raised to a two legged stance, bulk shoulders hunched forward with a reflection of power, strength; an unbridled bunch of muscles that quivered beneath the tan flesh. Eccentric dances that glided down his body in ripples and flashes of blue; an unrestrained trickle of power creating their own lightning show that tapped the carpeted floor with an accuracy that seemed to lull Thor in a step closer, lost to the lightning that glazed his vision as he stared me down.“I do not want to hurt you, Spiderling. I understand your pain.” Thor began, voice booming with a usually hidden sense of authority that rang like a secluded boom of thunder, making his words run laps around the closed off room in crackles of electricity.” I lost my brother.” He added in a much softer voice, sparking the closest outlet to me into a burst of flames, simmering down to a spark of blue before it just disappeared in a cloud of smoke. “Believe me when I tell you I sympathi—““It wasn’t the same,”





	1. Bring him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, well, little old me couldn’t let the end of Endgame just be the END. I mean, come on, the man got the heroic death he deserved but I was CRUSHED. I still have yet to stop crying and I’m not at all ashamed to admit I stayed up two nights in a row just to finish this little beauty. It will be roughly 3(ish) chapters, maybe more. I already have chapter 2 written out, and have quite a bit to go so here you go! Enjoy my idea of.. fixing it. 
> 
> *Summary* 
> 
> Peter can’t just let it go. He can’t just accept that Tony’s gone, that his new beginning meant that the man had come to his end and somehow, his priorities got fucked up and there he was. Spiraling out of control, self destructive, with nobody there to save him. After completely losing himself to the pain, Venom arises to save him from himself and well, they stumble down a fucked up path that has no end in sight. 
> 
> Will the avengers be able to save peter? 
> 
> And most importantly; 
> 
> Will peter be able to save Tony?
> 
> •TRIGGER WARNINGS•  
> • Mentions is suicidal thoughts  
> •Mention of intentional self destruction  
> •Alcohol abuse  
> •Body/Food Abuse  
> •Peter looks 15 but is 20. (That will eventually change.)

The dust was settling, creating a film of silence to mask the destruction and chaos surrounding them, caused by a creature drunk on power, greedily sneaking into homes and stealing what wasn’t his to steal; to claim. 

If anyone would have told me that this was how it all ends, maybe I would've slept in. Taken a sick day and left the fate of the world to a dice thrown about by the whims of Divinity. 

Let the reaper come in and steal what he wanted, ravage what was left to be ravaged and save the souls that hadn’t been touched by Thanos. My bones ached, remembrance echoing in the hollow points in my body that quivered on the ground shivering with blood.

They’d won, with every sense of the word wrapping like a cord around my fastly beating heart, constricting when I dared try to argue with the reality of the world: with the truth. Few had died. The lost souls returned safely but at what cost?

At what fucking cost did they win? Did we win? My blurry eyes blinked through the smoke still a thin cloud of transparent heartache, trying to find the familiar face I knew not to be there but craved like the very air my lungs were craving that scratched down my throat and rattled in the caged confines of my body. 

“Peter,” someone called, voice like shattering glass in my ringing ears and I cringed, blinking through the stars that exploded at my attempt to lift my head from the dirt. “PETER!” They were closer now, voice higher pitched, multiplied by a thousand due to my heightened senses and nothing felt right.

Nothing wanted to settle the war brewing in my stomach. Nothing  _ could _ tame the ache, talk it down from the ledge it was dangling off of, wanting more than anything to drop the house of cards that had been carefully stacked by the remaining avengers and just  _ jump.  _ I wanted to follow after what was never meant to be mine, but twined with my body like it was a breath from my own soul.

_ Tony _ . 

The burnt flesh singed my nose, burning it with each sharp inhale that only reminded him that a hundred feet away, motionless and sightless, was the man who had just risked the entire life he’d built: his entire empire, on the off chance of saving one soul. One soul he’d tore the earth apart searching for, driving himself mad in the process as he turned over rock after rock, trying to scratch that itch that he couldn’t reach and now- now I was left in the same place I’d left him in not too long ago.

But seemed as if it was an entire lifespan ago. Gone in the blink of an eye. 

My hand unintentionally curled around the wooden item in my hand, singeing what was left to singe. 

~~~ A few minutes prior~~~

_ “You can’t leave me, Mr. St- Tony,” and the name feel from my lips in a sobbed plea as my hands cupped the face I didn’t have enough time to mesmerize. My thumb brushed over the charred cheek, desperate to show in actions how truly lost I felt right now, how much this was all crushing me. “Please, Tony. You- It’s not fair.” _

_ “I did it for you, kid,” the man muttered in a hoarse voice, ragged and raw and his eyes glistened with tears. “Let me give you this, please. Let me-Let me go,” _

_ “I can’t,” I blubbered, tears falling dangerously quick down my pale face. “Please, I can’t. I didn’t have you long enough. I-I love you,” _

_ It was always an unspoken thing between them, an unspoken knowledge of their feelings for one another but I-Christ. I can’t lose him.  _

_ The undamaged side of Tony’s lips lifted in a quirked smile. “You’ve had me this entire time,”  _

And that was the last thing said, the last words uttered out of Tony’s mouth before his head fell forward in a limp gesture as his eyes fell gazeless. 

_ “No!” I sobbed, struggling against the arms that tightened around my waist as I was suddenly being hauled backward. “No! Hold on! I still need you!” — I would always need you, was left unspoken but I wasn’t strong. I was so fucking week and I couldn’t do this. I can’t do this alone. _

_ “I need him! Let me go!” But in the midst of my looming panic attack, of the crushing weight settling over my ribcage in a daunting reminder of my loss, I slipped and lost control of my strength and suddenly an arm around my waist was snapping and I was dropping to my knees as Steve gave a startled cry, _

_ “Stop it! You’re not the only one who lost him, Peter. Tony chose to do this to save you, to save all the lost souls. Hurt me all you want, but you can’t rewrite time. You can’t bring him back by lashing out,” Steve said, Bucky rushing to his side with unbridled worry as he dabbed at the dirty arm now bent at an ungodly angel with my fingerprints quickly becoming prominent in a bruise that scream from a unrelenting grip of a quick strike.  _

_ “Nobody could change Tony’s mind,” Bruce was quick to say, standing motionless next to Wanda, both sporting blank eyes. “Not when Strange told him you would be returned if the snap was reversed.” _

_ “You knew?” I asked, voice ungodly small and broken as my red rimmed eyes lifted to find the solemn faces of the people I once claimed to be family. “You all knew what he was going to do! And you didn’t stop him?’ _

_ Nobody said anything. Nobody dared, not when they could see the darkening of my eyes, swirling with untamed anger that was rising to the surface in quick, lashing waves that washed my core in hot heat. Removed any traces of pain, if only temporarily, to allow the anger a chance to burn bright and hot. _

_ “Thor took the direct energy from a star!” I scream, thrusting a helpless hand towards the supposed god of thunder who stood sheepishly by, his protruding gut hidden behind his shy hands that covered his body. “Did nobody think an immortal being the son of a god was a better fit than a human? A human who has housed each one of you, fed you, comforted you and took care of you without asking for anything in return? A man who loved each one of you even when he was so emotionally closed off he couldn’t even love himself?” _

_ A bitter laugh bubbled out of my lips. “Of course not. Because allowing Tony to play hero one last time and kill himself was better than any of you dying, right?” _

_ And suddenly, desperation was ravaging my body in a way that cracked open my core and suddenly, it was like I was looking through a kaleidoscope. One tilt of my head and the world was red. Thor was red. Bruce was red. The entire world was red, but with a quick flip back with a web shooting out of my wrist that caught Steve’s shield, which the man lunged forward to grab but it grazed his fingertips, the world was green. Then blue as I blinked through the stars. _

_ And when I landed on my feet, the red and blue shield held up, hiding my body, everything was black. Dark. Shadowless with monsters creeping up on me sporting the familiar faces that made my heart ache. “Peter, think carefully about what you’re about to do,” Wanda was the first to speak, hands held up in surrender as she took a cautious step forward.  _

_ “Like you guys did before allowing Tony to commit suicide to save a planet unworthy of saving?” I spat. _

_ Wanda cringed. “I offered to wear the gauntlet,” she said softly, eyes brimming with unshed tears as her own pain and loss resurfaced. She understood. “I just- I wanted to be with vision but Tony he- he wouldn’t listen to reason. He wouldn’t let us kill ourselves. He said-“ and she paused as she took a choked breath, “he said he couldn’t live with himself anymore. Your death hit him hard, Pete. And facing you- knowing what happened- he couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t- He took on a blame that wasn’t his own and I’m sorry,” _

_ I let out a sobbed scream, hands coming to cover my ears in an attempt to drown out all the voices that were suddenly clouding the anger with the milky hues of pain, slowly edging into focus and I can’t- I can’t lose that pain. That anchor. Because then I’ll have nothing more to hold on to. _

I’m sorry.

_ They took that as distraction enough and surged forward. Steve and Bucky flanking my right while Wanda and Bruce took the left, Thor coming head on while Sam and Clint worked their way behind me and Nat stayed hidden in the shadows, unwilling to budge, eyes shining with tears as she watched the flickering of pain, a mask of her own life, on my face. _

_ The rest stood on silent standby, waiting a signal if it got too out of hand. _

_ Throwing the shield over my shoulder in a calculated throw that had enough force behind it my shoulder nearly popped out of socket, it hit Steven directly in the chest and sent him flying backward, his scream getting trapped in his lungs as all the air was knocked out of his body; thoroughly cut off. A web shot out and wound around bucky’s feet, immobilizing him enough that his next attempted step forward sent him jostling forward in an ungraceful  fall that had his head bashing into the ground. A calculated flick and he was covered in a thick blanket of webbing, holding him down.  _

_ Bruce was the next easy target, him being hulkless and otherwise sensitive and with a simple webbing around his wrists and legs and he was too left immobile.  _

_ I kicked up off the ground and shot a web at Thor’s chest, using the leverage of him grinding his heels into the ground to keep from being lifted off the ground to my own advantage and I jerked forward, our bodies meeting in a clash of iron muscles and feeble punches that didn’t faze the man as they directly landed on his chest until I webbed his eyes, kicked his hammer away and used every ounce of my strength to punch him in the face.  _

_ The crunch of his nose shattering shouldn’t have been as satisfying but the red crimson spurting out of his nose was a nice sight- even a man thought to be invincible man could bleed. _

_ With his vision impaired, I kicked off again and was landing when suddenly my senses was on high alert, making my entire body tingle and before I had time to register what i was doing my hand was shooting up and catching the blunt of of Thor’s axe, the initial contact sending sparks of electricity up my arm that scorched the nerve endings and my eyes flared blue for a split second. _

_ “How-“ Nat. _

_ “It isn't possible-“ Bruce. _

_ “I thought you said no mortal could wield that!” Clint. _

_ They all spoke at once, but Thor’s voice cut through all of theirs. _

_ “It isn’t possible,” he said with a grunt, one eye visible from his pitiful attempt at peeling back my spider webs. “No human has wielded stormbreaker before and lived.” _

_ Which made sense because pain was fireworking in my back, sparking up my spine in bursts of heat that lapped at the back of my skull and the world was going dark, _

_ “I don’t feel so good,”  a mirrored response to what I said on Titan all those years ago. _

_ And suddenly, the world grew black. _

~~~ Present~~~

Turns out the smell of burning flesh, the singing of a human carcass, was my own. My body was alight in flames, lightning doing a dance across my body as it became trapped in the fibers of the spidey suit and just continued their electrical dance that left littered marks and pittered, fleeting flickers of satisfying pain across my skin.

“Peter!” And christ, that voice again. I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go to sleep, to give in to the alluring call the pain was humming in his ears and just let it all go,.. Dark. Apparently everyone else had other ideas. 

“He’s not human,” that was Thor, I knew that much. “His mutated blood cells and fast healing mutation must have allowed his body a few seconds of direct contact with stormbreaker before the power he was drawing became too immense,”

“I knew he was close to Tony but christ- I didn’t know he would try and kill himself over it,” and that was Clint, savior of breaking the darkness that had began to take over my vision as my eyes remained unblinking,

Nat was at my side, I realize a second later, belated and foggy as my eyes focused on her panicked face. “He didn’t!” She hissed, defensive as she clawed at the suit on my body, attempting to get it off but every touch shocked her just as it was me. “Thor was trying to use his axe to distract Peter long enough for Wanda to move in,” she said. “He didn’t know Peter would be fast enough to grab it,”

“No one ever is,” Thor said with a delighted smile before it quickly vanished when he remembered the setting.

“Here, let me,” he murmured, and with a faint brush down my thigh I felt the second Thor drew the remaining electricity from my body and my tensed muscles sighed as they relaxed and I let out a startled cry.

“There he is,” Nat cooed in an uncharacteristically sweet voice as she brushed a hand down my cheek in a motherly gesture before she fluttered her eyes up to meet Wanda’s. Nobody commented on it, on how she mothered me. Nobody ever did. And for some reason, I didn’t get the usual surge of affection in my bloodstream. I felt… nothing.

I couldn’t communicate, couldn’t move my mouth no matter how desperately i tried but with a choked sob, I grabbed Nat’s wrist as the dam wall began to quiver from the pressure of the water and I wasn’t ready to let that wall break. It couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough to survive it.

The last thing I remember after that, was watching out of the corner of my eye as Happy led to paramedics pushing a gurney over the splintered wooden beams, the crumbled stone from homes, the metal from exploded spacecraft and the bodies of the fallen soldiers and out of world carcasses who had blindly followed Thanos to their death.

He knew that gurney covered with a black tarp hid  _ his  _ Tony.

And his last thought he so desperately wanted to speak, to direct towards Clint was:

_ I do want to die. I would follow that man anywhere and you don’t have to understand.  _

_ You never could. _

_ I want to die. _

_ ~~~~ _

Loving someone, meant you were entrusting them enough not to break you. You were giving them the most fragile part of your body, with the illusion they wouldn’t drop it. Wouldn’t abuse it or shatter it. But what did one do when their heart had not only been dropped, but kicked, grinded down into the dirt and stomped on repeatedly before it was thrust back into your arms and you were told to move on like nothing happened? Like life wasn’t literally standing still, waiting for that next bated breath that seemed to catch on quivering lips before I could even possibly exhale it.

I was thrust back into a world I didn’t feel was my own, offered words of encouragement to get back out there and live my life and be a normal kid- like they all forgot that despite my fifteen year old appearance, unaging in the prison of Thanos, I wasn’t fifteen anymore. One human year drug out into several years in the realm of souls and I couldn’t voice that.

Couldn’t explain to May why I would wake her in the middle of the night, screaming as sobs punched their way up my throat in a battle to see what could make it out first; the cries from pure and utter heartbreak, the pleading for a lost love to return, or the bitter stomach acid that bubbled up my throat and stained my garbage can in what came a nightly ritual. Restless sleeping, nightmares, screaming and awakening entire neighborhood from said nightmares, puking, walking through the day like a zombie, rinse and repeat. 

Due to the circumstances and fragility of the world as it attempted to rebuild itself out of the ashes Thanos left behind, I was permitted an immediate grant to attend MIT- full ride, without needing to graduate from high school first. I was affected, they’d said, and this was the least they could do to those returned.

My once geeky friends, the lanky, shut off girl with crude remarks and dead eyes, wasn’t a shy math whizz anymore. She was a stunning woman, already in her second year at MIT with her girlfriend, Bianca, a pretty lap dog to keep her company throughout her day. And Ned- Ned wasn’t glued to his computer anymore. Didn’t build lego replicas every weekend, timing himself to see how fast he could finish each one. He has thinned out with age, bulked up a bit but not much and he was still a shy computer geek who had a full ride at one of the most elite computer engineering colleges one could get into.

I haven’t seen them since I returned, haven’t even seen more than pictures but their text messages were a constant buzzing in my phone and there was one thing I was certain of. 

I didn’t belong in their lives anymore. I didn’t  _ fit.  _

Even in May’s, I was constantly reminded how much she’d changed in my five year absence. She remarried, a surprise she thrust at me my first real night home after spending a night in the recovery unit at the avengers tower after trying to wield Thor’s hammer. 

My peace had lasted but three seconds there before the ghost of Tony’s presence haunted my very thoughts and I spent the rest of the night hiding on the roof, everyone agreeing because Friday was constantly monitoring my vitals. Assuring I wasn’t dying physically as every other part of my body slowly began to crumble off in dead heaps of sand- returning to the form Thanos had cursed me to all those years ago and I craved that pain. Craved the world he trapped me in because there- there, Tony was alive. 

I could  _ feel _ and see him without constantly being winded with the realization that I’d never walk into the lab in the middle of the night, doey eyed with sleep mused hair, just to see what he was working on yet again. I’d never get to pry into the deliciously intricate and beautiful folds of his brain and attempt to try and understand him in the only ways he could be understood. I’d never see his sarcastic smile, his fleeting glances that scream love and admiration that he was constantly throwing at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. I’d never be allowed to hold him close, and tell him I loved him.

He would never know.

But May, she was happy. She claims she could never move on after my death, that she became a recluse and hid away from years before an unsuspecting knight in a shiny black car pulled into her life and demanded she feel all that needed to be felt, and moved on.

I didn’t hate Happy for rescuing my aunt from herself, from saving her from the drowning currents of depression, but I did hate him because the older man could never offer me the same help. Well, maybe not the same help. I certainly didn’t want to curl up next to Happy every night, but.. I could never have that. And it was more of a envious feeling than anything else.

I was left sitting at the top of my apartment building, more alone than ever as the night stars twinkled bold and proud in the sky, as Mj and Bianca rushed through their clothes in a hungry desperation to just feel one another- as Ned cast shy glances at the cute girl across the library who he’s been building up the courage to talk to, always returning every night to study at the same time just to see her and tonight, was their first date. As May curled up with Happy, both sleeping peacefully in the others arms- unaware that floors above them, I was drowning.

Trying to pull my head from the current but unlike May, I didn’t have that offered hand.

And unlike May, I don’t think I would have taken it.

~~

The world was in chaos, but still, that chaos was to be put on hold so they could celebrate the life of the man who had, for years, saved and protected earth and finally out did himself and went out with the biggest bang Tony Stark, the adrenaline junky, could. 

Memorials littered New York streets. Billboards had Iron man plaster across the, graffiti staining the train cars and abandoned buildings with the glowing red and gold suit and the people were hopeful while remaining guilty. Iron man had saved them, and they had hope one day, they could offer the next generation the world Tony tried so desperately to build. 

His funeral was today, and I couldn’t build the courage to put on the suit. The first struggle of my life that actually called from me breaking out the hidden bottle of whiskey I’d stolen from aunt may years ago, still safely tucked in the heater vent though it was now dusty and smelt of musk. The seal hadn’t even had a chance to properly crack open before I was guzzling the burning liquid, welcoming the spreading fire that enclosed my chest in a warmth that I seemed to lack as of lately.

And when the effects finally kicked in, and I could look out my window and see the glowing of candles from the large memorial that curled around the entire block at Stark towers, and not immediately feel the need to sob, I deemed myself ready.

I put on the suit.

_ I haven’t cried. _

Hid a flask full of the whiskey inside my pocket.

_ I haven’t cried. _

I allowed May to drag me from the house with Happy trailing behind her, both ignoring how the boy who appeared fifteen was buzzing and nearly off his ass. They both knew of his tolerance, of how he’d kick through the buzz by the time they reached the cemetery. 

Little did they know I had learned to control said metabolism while crushed under Thanos’ thumb. Knew how to focus past the constant humming in my body and force it to drag to a slow crawl and it would offer me a few hours of being allowed to be completely plastered off a few shots. The only disadvantage: it left me completely vulnerable. Weak. Completely shredded my nervous system and anything I was suppressing would hit me ten fold.

I was ready. 

_ I haven’t cried.  _

I just couldn’t slip up. 

_ I haven’t cried.  _

Couldn’t expose a wire otherwise the entire motherboard would short circuit and that-  _ that  _ would be bad.

~~~

I haven't seen Pepper. I haven’t even spoken of, to, or about her. Happy tried to update me on how everyone was doing, what they’d done after the first snap, but I shut him down the second Titan was brought up. I-I couldn’t. Not yet. 

Teetering on the verge of being drunk as I walked briskly, if not only a little stumbled, down the cemented sidewalk, I couldn’t pretend the trip of my feet was from the alcohol coursing through my veins when my eyes first landed on her.  _ Pepper. _ Not when I caught sight of the little girl standing next to her, long brown hair tied into a high ponytail that exposed her soft, warm face and left room for her calculating brown eyes to scat over each face in the crowded cemetery, silently assessing them and i knew without being told whose she was. She scream Tony. 

A tight tug in my stomach was a sharp reminder I was slipping, losing control and the alcohol was quickly being burned out of my system but with a grunt and a thought that extended through my entire body, my heart was slowing down once again and the droplets that had escaped the dam were sucked back up.

Pepper’s eyes caught mine own and she  _ smiled.  _

With nowhere to run, to hide now that I’d been spotted, I pretended I was at ease with his entire thing and mustered up enough courage to at least scream the confidence she was, trying to unknowingly mirror her as I made my way towards her.

She’s always been nice to me. Kind. Understanding. Never judged when it was me who would have to sit through the entire night with Tony’s head in my lap otherwise he wouldn’t sleep. Didn’t question why it had to be me who talked Tony through his flashbacks, her silky voice no longer enough to break through the dark haze of remembrance; of fear. She just stood silently by, and loved Tony enough for the both of them.

She was loyal and I couldn’t hate her.

“Hello, Peter,” she said in a soft voice, smile understanding as her eyes drooped and he suddenly realized how tired she looked. 

“Hi, pep,” i said, and if she caught the slight waver in my voice, she thankfully didn’t point it out.

My eyes flickered to the little girl at her side and realization dawned on Pepper’s face.  _ You were gone for five years,  _ the look said _ , You don’t know who this little girl was.  _ A second later, the brown eyed beauty was being pushed forward. “Peter, I would like you to meet Morgan-“ the  _ Stark _ was left unsaid but implied when she fixed her sharp gaze on my face and I immediately felt my knees buckle. 

“You’re Spider-Man,” Morgan said, eyes scrutinizing me; taking in my disheveled yet immaculate appearance- looking well put together despite the situation and reality of today. 

I offered a tight smile and nodded, figuring lying was pointless and if I was to be called out, it might as well be a little girl whose very existence was proof of my fantasy I had living in my head of Tony wanting  _ just me _ . “I was,” I whispered. I left the suit at the towers that night I was there, having no intention of ever putting it on, of having the chance of catching a smell of the burnt flesh stuck to the pads of the gloves.

“Daddy said he would burn the world down for you,” she said, and Pepper gasped as she gave the little girls hand a tug, finding the admittance rude even though it made my stomach erupt in butterflies that quickly turned to boulders and splashed in their pool of alcohol. 

_ So she was Tony’s _

The flask in my pocket was burning a hole now, begging to be opened and put to use, taunting me to take a taste, a small taste, and see what Tony had been fussing over for years. If it worked for him, I thought, it might just be enough to work for me.

“Morgan, behave.” Pepper said, quickly offering me an apologetic smile; the curl of her lips excusing the words that fell from her daughters. Her eyes looked sad- tired.

The little girl look surprised, eyebrows furrowed at the thought that her mother was daft enough to think she was not behaving simply because she was speaking the truth. “What?” She asked, looking up at her mom, the squint of her eyes reminding me a little bit too much of a certain somebody who would use to same look as he gazed over the lenses over his glasses. “Daddy said he would save Spider-Man!” She argued, adamant as she stomped her foot on the ground before she remembered  _ I  _ was here, then she spun on me so quick and leaned forward with her hands clasped around her mouth. “When he would visit, he would show me videos of you,” she admitted in a hushed voice, like she was telling me her most cherished secret.

And something blared in my head. 

_ Visit. _

My eyes flickered to find Pepper’s sad ones. She smiled, forced. Like she knew I was asking a question that should somehow be obvious in the absence of the wedding ring on her finger. “I found out I was pregnant after the snap,” she said softly, cautiously. “I didn’t tell Tony at first. He was- after Titan,” she cringed when I did, eyes round with sympathy but she powered through it with only one cautious glance being offered in her daughters direction. “After  _ you,  _ he came home different. He was- he was a man on a mission and I’d never seen him like that. Eventually I told him, and he tried to be there. Tried to be the perfect father and fiancé but he was always somewhere else. His heart belonged somewhere else and I-and finally, he let us go. He came around weekly to visit her but he was always searching for something, Pete, anything to bring you back. He was always searching for  _ you,” _

And for some reason, she didn’t look sad when she said that. She looked…  _ happy?  _ Joyous at the prospect of her ex fiancé driving himself mad trying to find a way to undo a snap, becoming secluded in the process, shut off and out of everyone’s life. Including his daughters.

“It looks like he found you,” -and lost himself in the process, I added bitterly as I forced myself to inhale the breath my clamping lungs were trying so hard to cling to. “And now, he has his peace.”

I didn’t get a chance to say anything else, ask anything else, because she was suddenly being whisked away and I was left to my own thoughts. My self control a quickly crumbling wall that was disarming every advance I made towards restoring it and the tears were coming quick now.

I didn’t even hide as I clawed the flask out of my jacket and took three large, calming swigs. Allowing myself to focus on the burning of the liquid rather than the lump forming in my throat. 

Happy came to stand next to me, and silently held out his hand. Rather than confiscating the flask like I thought he was going to once I handed it to him, he took a swig and recapped it before slipping it back into my pocket with a soft pat. “You can’t blame yourself forever,” he said, voice hard and it was refreshing. Not to have him speak with the soft, cautious voice like everyone seemed to be lately. Like I was fragile enough anything a tad bit harsher would break me.

_ I wanted to be broke. _

“Tony wouldn’t have done what he did if you weren’t there to clean up the aftermath,” Happy said, “he seen something in you and knew you were more important to this world than he was at the moment. He could do no more for us, and I realize how much it must be to have all of this put on your shoulders, and so suddenly, but by saving you, kid, he was giving you his throne and the world. He was giving you the opportunity to save the world he knew to be hopeless without it’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,” 

And with that, he was walking away. Offering no comfort, no sentences to soften the blow of his words. Just smacked me with the cold, hard truth and finally,  _ finally,  _ the first tear fell.

~~~

I couldn’t  _ stay.  _ I couldn’t walk through the hordes of crying souls, all reminiscing of the man Tony was and how much they would miss him and how loved he was. I couldn’t be a ghost flickering through the scenes like a leaf through the seasons, never staying put, never holding on to a conversation for a longer than a second before I was changing scenery and moving onto the next person who would just sob and throw themselves into my arms, bawling because of the purest soul this planet lost and I was sick with all of the crocodile tears shed by the people Tony held at an arm's length. 

No one here truly knew him. Pepper didn’t even know him, and she spent a large portion of her life with him. Fuck, I used to pride himself on seeing dark snippets of the man’s fucked up mind but even I  _ didn’t  _ know him in his entirety. I knew snippets. But still. Those snippets were more than these peoples vague awareness of Tony’s social standing and tethers to the avengers and title as Iron Man. 

My snippets were  _ something. _

And that something was more claiming than the sobbed declaration of, “I spoke to Tony at one of his fundraisers. That man was an honest to god angel on this earth,”

Bitterness left a lick of acidity on the strip of my tongue as I slipped through the crowds and moved over the grass piled high with people, the entire cemetery crowded with guests; more wrapped round the entire block and I was pretty sure half of New York was lying to wait at my feet. The other half were watching through tears as news stations filmed this live event and streamed it globally. 

According to the stats online, over half the world was watching. 

And according to those stats, it was the most viewed television program in history.

It took the death of a man who fought for fairness, to finally get the recognition he deserved. He finally did not have to fight and defend himself.

His honor was his to take to the grave with him.

He could rest peacefully now. 

Every member of the avengers, past or present, as well as the guardians of the galaxy and a few from Wakanda were at the front of the cluster of people, standing in front of the casket and few only offered me a glance.

Steve certainly didn’t look too happy with his arm in a cast. 

Nat was hovering like a worried mother for the better part of the event, and finally, as I slipped and pushed past people silently and broke free at the back, I lost her long enough that I was able to shoot a web up towards the closet lamp post and I was immediately pulled up, like a bungee cord, and was left to balance with one foot on the foot wide, hundred foot high light. 

Up here, I couldn’t hide. Up here, I didn’t want to hide. 

I heard people murmuring below me, few catching sight of the delirious boy crouching precariously on a lamp post with his head tipped back, long neck visible and pale in the rays of the afternoon sun. It was peaceful up here, calm. Quiet. Like the first few seconds after i disintegrated into.. nothing. 

In Tony’s arms.

I craved that solitude.

“What is he doing up there?” I heard the shrill of a voice question, and I couldn’t bring myself to care as I switched from foot to foot, the flask a heavy weight in my hand as I took a greedy sip from it and allowed the few droplets that escaped the seam of my lips to trail down my chin and leave tiny dark imprints on my shirt.

I looked down and immediately found May’s eyes. She looked resigned, like she'd been waiting for this. But she was also pleading, like she knew now wasn’t the time to do this. She was trying to voice that with a look and fuck me, but I’m not psychic. Never claimed to be. 

How could she claim to care, and love me, when not once has she asked how I was  _ doing.  _ She didn’t ask what happened in those years I was gone. Didn’t seem to be even fazed, until I was waking her up, sobbing for a love I could never get.

She tried to understand. 

But she couldn’t.

Ben broke her, but Tony? Tony killed  _ me.  _

Nobody has asked how I was doing. Not once. They all assume I’m too shell shocked and fragile to be allowed to grasp or generate actual emotions and have a conversation that didn’t extend beyond the casual catching up. 

In my world, in the world Thanos had banished me to, it was a lot like this. I was alone, while everyone else around me continued to hum along with life. They were all there, all alive. But I had been sentenced to a life of always being alone. 

And in that life, in that timeline, I was-  _ fuck. I can’t think about this now. _

In an anticlimactic turn of events, I lifted my arms and fell backwards. The earth whistling by my ears, warning me of my impending doom, whispering words of comfort in my hair now disturbed from the wind but just before I made contact with the ground, before I could smack into the hard concrete that I so badly wanted to leave the imprint of my skull in, my hand was lifting and a web connected to the side of a building and I was suddenly jarred in that direction.

Face never once caught in the people’s line of sight, even as I soared over them and my stomach clenched deliciously with the thrill of flight as I dropped down even lower and shot out another web. I was soaring without wings and falling without a landing zone and fuck- I couldn’t  _ do  _ this.

I didn’t even approach the closed casket. Couldn’t get a hundred feet within its general direction before my heart was sent into spasms.

That wasn’t  _ Tony _ and it was about time I accepted i wasn’t  _ Peter. _

Titan changed me and Thanos, well, he changed a lot of things.

~~~

That first tear had been pitiful at the funeral. That same night, when I was left alone once more, isolated, I found myself climbing the glass walls at the abandoned Stark towards and collapsing on the balcony at the top floor. -I couldn’t go inside. Not now. Not ever- At the penthouse Tony refused to give up because he had to stay somewhere and being away from me wasn’t an option. Leaving me wasn’t an  _ option.  _

And that’s when it hit me. The reality of everything. The loss. The aching. The death. The pain. Morgan. Pepper. Being given the responsibility of being all that Tony was and, apparently to the man, more. May. Happy. Steve.  _ Tony.  _

I sobbed, chest walls caving in and I wasn’t aware of the sounds leaving my own mouth but I could hear someone else crying and it was pitiful. The heart wrenching sobs enough to send my own body into overdrive and I sobbed over more than I could ever realize.

The emptiness I have come accustomed to refused to claim me in that moment and I was forced to feel as every slumbered nerve in my body was sparked back to life. 

I was forced to  _ feel _ all Tony took. 

And christ, what a pitiful little man he left behind.

“Why!” And I didn’t realize I was screaming it until a startled bird took flight above my head. And, as if to answer the very question, a Spider-Man balloon with a gold string flew over the balcony railing and landed with a soft plop in the motionless water in the abandoned hot tub.

On the balloon read, “Homecoming,”

The world's response at the knowledge their hero was back after a five year long absence.

I was their beckon of hope and with one last fuck you to Tony, I grabbed the ballon and squeezed until it popped.

Leaving it as empty as I felt. 

And that’s when the damn finally broke. 

~~~

Months pass, or perhaps its weeks? Or maybe it's even only a day that passes in a drawn out, stretched version of hours that somehow convert into an illusion of years.

However long the gap of time, the meaningless stream of numbers ticking by that was no more than an inconvenience when the sky grew dark and left my world basked in the darkness I’d come to loathe. In the day time, I had shadows. I wasn’t so completely alone.

At night, reality caught up to me and made me face the ache in my chest.

Spider-Man was called upon for the first time since my return. It was a Friday night, and the blaring sirens were an enchanting song luring me from my protected perch on top of the abandoned tower that was still lit up so brightly from the store of candles lit below on the sidewalk, a thick layer of wax rooting itself in place and claiming the place for itself like the red and golden streaks belonged there just as much as the imprinted iron fist from the time Tony landed a little too hard, a little too quickly, and did his typical iron man drop which resulted in the dent in the unfillable cement. The crack in the foundation. His claim to his throne that the very earth owed him.

There was a break in, a mild robbery. The world was once again in chaos, Tony Starks absence even more evident now as the Avengers broke up and went their separate ways, to do their separate things. Who was to save them now, if not the man whose entire life had been dedicated to just that?

Earth was suffering in the aftermath of Thanos. Stark industries were working overtime to fix what they could. But without Tony, what could they truly promise?

This was a means to and end. Not a fix to a long term solution. Tony was the cork in the wine bottle and now, slowly, everything was pouring out. Everything he fought to hide. 

And in a cliche way, no sooner had my ears caught the sirens, there was a bright flicker in the sky. A beam of light that sliced across New York and projected across the side of the Avenger tower and when I climbed down long enough to see it, I seen an animated version of myself staring back at me. A red face, parted with black lines and large, white eyes taking up a majority of the face, 

The world needed Spider-Man more than ever. 

And Spider-Man didn’t need the world.

Spider-Man—  _ i needed  _ peace.

I needed Tony. 

So the call went ignored, the plead slashing at my already tattered heart and I realized a second after I’d returned to my predatory crouch on the very edge of the tower, that I felt nothing. Before, that would have crushed me. Literally tore me apart, at the realization that I couldn’t help the city that raised me. 

But it was easy to see the world wasn’t the same.

And I, well, I wasn’t willing to play pretend anymore. I wasn’t a hero. I never was. I was a kid dressed up in a costume and Tony knew that. I died my first day as an avenger because of my lack of knowledge and basic grasping of common thoughts, which resulted in the biggest sacrifice one could ever do.

But what did that mean? What did me coming back mean?

Happy said It was because Tony deemed my life more worthy than his own.

Wanda said it was because he couldn’t live with himself, the guilt of losing me eating him alive.

Pepper said it was because Tony couldn’t live without me. 

I came to accept that none of them were right.

Tony didn’t do it for me. For himself. He did it because he was selfish.

A man that smart had to grow bored, and in his boredom he found the easiest fucking solution. The Big Bang to end his tormented existence.

He did it because it was the easiest, more self righteous way for himself to find peace.

It was his judgment day, and that had been his final test.

Dying,

That was him passing. 

~~~

Drinking became a habit. Being drunk was an added benefit. Hangovers were a rare occurrence because if you didn’t stop drinking, didn’t allow yourself to slip up with what little remained of your self control, then the party never stopped and I never had to feel again.

Everybody seemed to have noticed the depletion in my stature. The resignment in my eyes. My concave stomach sloshing with alcohol, because slowly but surely, each Avenger returned to the tower.

One right after the other.

Shamefully shuffling through the doors to the place they’d called home, abandoned to move to god knows where in Tony’s attempt to keep them safe, and were once again returning with their biggest puzzle piece missing.

Each held the guilt differently. In Steve, it was the slouched posture to his broad shoulders, the darting of his eyes when anyone but Bucky attempted to make eye contact. Bucky hid behind Steve, using the broad man as a human shield to hide him away from the world, from the rest of their and their prying questions. His guilt was hidden in the sad smile that always stretched his lips every time he was watching Steve and caught me staring. I wasn’t meant to see that, whatever was between them.

That was a secret that was to remain in Wakanda. 

Wanda’s was in the blank glaze of her eyes, always staring at an undefined blank spot on the wall as she sat on the couch, only ever tuning into a conversation when someone drug her from her thoughts. Bruce’s was more evident in the chaotic dishevelment of his appearance. The wrinkled clothes, unkept beard, and mountains of paperwork he buried himself in. I related to that. Keeping myself occupied, busy, so I didn’t have to think.

Hulk hadn’t talked to Bruce since Tony’s death. He blamed the man for his death.

In a way, I did too.

Clint’s was more hidden. It was in the draw of his shoulders, tensed and pulled back like the string on a bow, drawn to it’s limits and the second Tony was ever brought up in a conversation, the arrow was released and he was falling forward with a shutter that wrecked his entire body. Nobody comforted him. Everybody felt pity for him. Sam’s was in the anxious movements, unable to sit still for longer than minute when before, he’d always been the calm one. It was in the bounce of his knee, the tapping of his fingers, the pattern of his feet drawing worn out paths through the hallways in his tired, relentless march during the night. 

Thor’s was in his silence. The man who always had something to say, a smart ass quip or retorted come back, had fallen mute. Only ever speaking when directly acknowledged and questioned. Even then, it was only partial formed responses. One worded answers that were short, harsh, and cut off.

Rhodey’s was the most evident. The one that called for immediate alarm and made me remember, a little unselfishly, that I hadn’t been the only one who lost Tony.

His was in the dark, black bags hugging the underside of his red rimmed eyes. Bloodshot, squinting, always searching the horizon like he was waiting for the second he could see that familiar red tint flying towards him. He hadn’t been home to his family in weeks.

He looked at me with such sorrow and pity it made me sick.

The sickness was easily erased with a large swig of vodka, washed down with another shot of tequila. 

They all looked disgusted with the sight of me. Skinny. Sickly. Bruises a permanent attachment to the underside of my eyes, face pale and sunken in. Ribcage obnoxiously prominent due to the tight shirt conforming around my body. My body was caving in on itself, trying to swallow my entire being and make myself disappear and I knew it was from the hunger.

The hunger that food didn’t satisfy. That nothing on this earth could ever make quiet. 

They all tried coaxing me into the tower at one point or another, Steve and Bucky using a softer, yet gruff approach. Sugar coating while hard. Telling me how it is without being mean. Same as everyone after them. All but Rhodey. He was the most understanding.

“Come in when you’re ready, kid,” he said, wisely not acknowledging the row of empty bottles balanced on the edge of the tower. He brought me food most days. Food I would just, in turn, offer to the seagulls. 

It was the fifth day of their return that she finally showed up, the woman who wouldn’t leave my side but now couldn’t even look at me. They didn’t know I could hear through the stone walls, could make out their begged words asking her to talk to me, get me to come in, to save me from myself. They didn’t know I could hear them say she was my only hope.

She most certainly didn’t know I could hear her say I was already too gone. 

But i did. And I was.

Yet, sometime around midnight that night, when I’d found myself growing wobbly from lack of food and too much alcohol, and I’d kicked my arms out behind me to work as kickstands to hold me up while I leaned back and stared at the starless sky, she sat down next to me.

“This was his favorite place too,” she said, nose wrinkling as she picked through the pile of bottles, reading the labels before she settled on a bottle of crown royal and broke the seal. “That, and the lab.” But that was common knowledge, wasn’t it? Tony loves that lab.

Correction. He  _ loved _ the lab. Past tense. 

All I could offer in my drunken state was a hum of acknowledgment, the person of topic doing nothing more than sending an uncomfortable ripple of pain through the alcohol induced haziness.

“You’re killing yourself, Peter,” she said after a few painful breathes, her own shaky as she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a mouthful. Not having touched alcohol in years yet here she was, sat atop a tower with a not fifteen year old sat paired at her hip with an unsteady glint in his eyes. She offered me the bottle, silent. 

For once, I didn’t take it. Too absorbed in the moment,  in feeling what was being offered in rolling pulses coming off of the woman as we set in silence for a few seconds. Comfort. Understanding. Warmth. Love. Guilt. Pity. 

Bust most of all?

Heartache.

“I know,” I whispered, because I did know. I knew exactly what I was doing. Knew the lack of food was slowly turning my invincible body weak, malnourishment turning my bones brittle and my muscles weak. Jelly arms and pudding legs that couldn’t even hold me up would do no good in a fight, in any day to day tasks. But it felt too good not to give in. To punish myself with the painful clenching of my stomach, a constant, welcomed reminder that if Tony wasn’t eating.  _ Couldn't _ eat. Neither could I. 

Pushing my body to its limits seemed to be the only fair thing to do while in the absence of anything else ever having the chance of being fair again.

She looked at me, there, under the high hung moon, with the starless sky acting as a witness, and away fell her mask. New York acting as her backdrop, her anchor to ground usto earth, to the moment, to reality rather than up in the clouds, in space, where I last felt  _ whole.  _

Titan had broke Tony, or so I’d been told. And Titan had been the last place I felt  _ normal.  _ Even as I was battling an out of control god, high on power, on his superiority and delusional belief that he was doing the  _ right _ thing by erasing half the universe. Fighting with them,  _ by him,  _ was the only answer to the call my body had been emitting for years. 

Being an Avenger had made me whole in a way I knew would forever remain empty now. An absence left that wasn’t nearly as big as the one the god damn genius had left in my heart. 

Claiming and stating without him actually being here to take his prizes home. 

Away fell carefully pieced together facade of a woman who was hard, untouched by emotions. Cruel. Supercharged and prided on being heartless. And in the place of that mask, sat a scared little girl who had been hurt one too many times and was looking at a boy, hoping he would see her pain, her pleading, and do something to save her even just a little bit of pain.

She was tired of hurting. So was I.

She gave a firm nod, not hiding herself again but instead tilting her head back with her eyes closed so she could feel the brush of the breeze across her skin. “I can’t let you do that, you know that, right?”

“I know,” 

“I promised him I would save you,” 

My eyes flickered to the side of her face, shadowed from the light of the moon, and her eyes were open— glistening. “You shouldn’t have made a promise to protect a life not your own,”

My heart throbbed in pulses that had blood rushing to fill my suddenly cold body, clenching with every inhaled breath. In an attempt to make myself smaller, to trick my mind into believing I was folding into a microscopic being who had no room for any sort of emotions, I pulled my knees to my chest and tucked my chin over them.

“You’re right,” she breathed, “but I have to at least try.”

“Why?” And I didn’t know I was crying, that the pain was coming at me in waves, pulling me beneath the current and I couldn’t scream. Just had to watch as my last shred of hope slipped through my fingers. Left me bare and aching and begging for more, anything more to heal me, to save me, to stop me from drowning. I was looking for that life jacket that nobody was going to throw. “Why is it so important to you that I live. To  _ him,” _

“Because,” she croaked, “Tony sa-“

“If you say he saw something in me, I will throw myself off this building with no intention of using my webs to save me,” I cut her off, voice bleeding and shrilled, raw and raspy, speaking a truth she knew that shocked her at first, made her blink several times before she shook off the shock from the admission and fixed her gaze on the moon. 

She shook her head, and gave a stuffed laugh, attempting to laugh off the hurt because it was easier to do that than acknowledge it. “Tony saved the world, knowing he was leaving it to you,” she said, holding up her hand to signal she wasn’t done when she seen me open my mouth. “He told me he was passing the baton onto the most qualified person, and that was you Pete. He picked  _ you,  _ said your life was more important than the other hundreds of millions of billions because..”

And she cut off, startling both of us at the broken sob that ripped her throat to shreds, that bled with the very blood from my chest. Taken from the tap, poured down the drain and made watch, made feel, as the garbage disposal was turned on.

Only now, Nat was the sink, her eyes the switch to the garbage disposal and her words were the final thing that was given the opportunity to shred what little sanity I had left. What little more I had of myself that Tony hadn’t yet stolen in his departure.

She looked at me, eyes shining with an unfiltered pain, hopelessness stabbing at my own chest as I braced myself for her next sentence, for the admission of the century, of the eon. Easily plucking my heart out of my chest as if she’d been standing in an apple orchard and found the most banged up, worm ridden apple she could find, and ripped it off the stem. 

“Because he knew, like him, you couldn't let him go. And like him, you would find a way to bring him back.”

_ Bring him back.  _

_ I wasn’t the world's last hope. _

_ I was Tony’s last hope. _

And that did nothing to ease the war brewing in my stomach. Only intensified the dark pouch of venom around my heart. 

~~~

The only problem was, I didn’t know  _ how  _ to save him.

~~~


	2. Venom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to clarify that I do not own rights to the characters mentioned in this story, and it is purely fictional. 
> 
> This isn’t proofread, so any and all mistakes are my own. Feel free to point any you see out to me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!! I’ll be back with the next few shortly. 😉
> 
> Warnings; dark undertones with mention of suicidal tendencies and alcohol abuse. Read at your own risk!

The following Monday found me more alert than I had been in months, dressed in fresh clothes and still reeking of liquor but my senses were no longer so muddled by the sluggish effects of the liquid that I couldn’t function. Couldn’t think. 

With one foot in front of the other, feeding zero thought into the actions, I was able to breach the invisible barricade my mind had set up that stood in front of the glass doors of Stark Towers and I made it a few feet into the lobby before I felt a sense of dread and panic wash over me, then I was back out on the street, ignoring the passerby’s as i tugged at the tight necked shirt I was wearing because it was constricting around the throat, and collapsed down onto the curb. 

Allowing the stench of New York to over power my senses and erase everything else.

Everything other than the bubbly, faint taste of alcohol that still clung to the back of my tongue and tickled my throat.

Cars passed by in a blur, a flash of yellow there, a streak of red followed closely by a blur of blue and a punch of green. The world continued on around me, living, thriving despite how utterly dead I could see the core was and something unfurled in my stomach at the sight of New York thriving even with Tony’s absence. Living when  _ he couldn’t. _

A darkness I wasn’t aware had ever been there.

But it was present, in the quick snap of my eyes as they followed the tall man dressed in black following closely behind the little old woman who had her purse clutched tightly against her chest, throwing cautious glances over her shoulder at the man who stayed no more than three feet behind here at all times. 

His pulse racing.

It seeped into the once white webbing that extended from my wrist without so much as a thought being extended, the man pinned to the wall, enclosed in the thick, twisted tendrils of black silky webs. It edged at my words, curled around them in a dark purr as I whispered, hidden behind a mask of dark eyes and a crude curl of lips, “Hoping to get lucky, were we? Poor bad guy must be feeling so helpless, stuck to a wall, pinned by a fifteen year old. Tell me, bad guy, did you expect this? Are you afraid?”

My body hummed with the idea of fear. 

_ What was wrong with me.  _ My drunken sway before the man was, for once, not caused by the alcohol induced balance problems. It was the sudden absence of fear, of morality. Anything good being sucked from my soul like a bendy straw had a direct passage through my ear canal and suddenly, I couldn’t think of anything but the sick satisfaction that would come with a scream from this man. 

A human who had done no wrong. Who didn’t deserve this-this unholy sense of righteousness that has taken root in my bones. Invaded my skin like it was a home that had recently been evicted. A planet with not a single light on. 

“Look, man, I wasn’t going to hurt her! I was only going to take her purse! I promise,” he pleaded, desperate to get me to understand, to see the woman who was scurrying towards the subway station now that she was free from her stalker, her purse no longer clutched in an iron grip and I was the reason for that. I gave her back her comfort, stopped this man before he could do the wrong that was etched into his heart like a poorly written manuscript passed down from father to son and he’d gotten the memo mixed up and forgot to hunt at night. Not during the day. 

That they were supposed to hurt. Not just steal. 

But the knowledge of her comfort wasn’t enough. My heart slammed against my throat, in search of something more, anything more. 

Craving only one thing.  _ Fear.  _

The blue eyes certainly looked scared. 

But that fear could definitely be improved. Could be heightened with a small touch, a gentle caress of his skin; a small squeeze from my tiny hand. 

I didn’t realize I gave into the craving. 

With a twist of his human wrist, the man was screaming and pulling against his unbreakable restraints, his hand dangling in a fleshy sleeve with his shattered bone floating with no destination inside his wrist, under the skin.

The horror wasn’t enough to wipe away the grin, to erase the smugness that seeped into the once dead gaze and when I took a stumbled step back, my body misinterpreted and took a large lunge forward. Crowding the space not my own. Inhaling the sick scent of pain and fear. It was sweet, like honey. Darkened with the undertones of something burnt. 

Despite my fighting attempts, my futile motions to remove myself from being plastered against the man’s side, my body rebelled and did the exact opposite. Lifted my hand to brush fingers across the rapidly purpling skin that was warm to the touch and inflating like a balloon; brought to life with a large breath from a clowns tattered lungs. 

Infatuation was like a lightning rod to the gut. 

I shouldn’t be so intrigued by this, by the trembling body pressed so close to me I could feel as it began to sag in a desperate attempt to go unconscious and escape the pain as the adrenaline burned its way out of his blood stream. 

“What the fuck! What is wrong with you, you sick fuck!” The man scream, surging his head forward in random burst of strength, a last second attempt to head butt me but i dodged it and grinned. 

So he was playing this game too, giving into the desire  that weighed thick and heavy in his stomach. Urging him to go on in a sickly sweet voice. To take what he wants, break what he wants. To tear apart the skin from the bones and see how long a human could last before their endurance levels bottomed out and they passed out. 

Either from blood loss, or shock. 

The game was in finding out which would take them first. 

And if he was playing, surely I could? I didn’t have to play by the rules anymore. Didn’t have to be the nice guy who was constantly cleaning up messes not my own, protecting people who weren’t my responsibility. It was time I had  _ fun.  _

So, I gave into the itch; and scratched. 

“I want a different kind of promise,” I whispered instead, dark and gloating as I rode this sudden wave of power, drunk off of something other than alcohol. Intoxicated by something that wasn’t Spider-Man. “I want you to promise me will get the word out. This city is no longer yours to run. I’m back,”

“W-Who’s back? Who are you?” It was asked in a slurred sentence laced with an agony I could feel relation to, could hear my own mind screaming as my pain was called front and center only to be pushed back down by something even more unstable, something more demanding and powerful. 

The answer came in the rush of endorphins shooting throughout my body, sparking my heart into an overdrive as it worked to pound a bruising rhythm against my chest, begging to be released: this sudden feeling acting just as the spider bite did. Transforming me. Reprogramming me.  _ Changing me.  _ The venom was rewriting my hardwire and it was only fair I gave it credit.

Erasing the parts of me Tony fought to plant, to water and watch bloom. A small breath unclasped years of work, years of memories, and I sunk into the quicksand tugging my head below the surface and inhaled the grainy sand. Suddenly aware this was the first time I was breathing without the sensation of drowning. 

My panicked footsteps retreated down the alleyway, echoing anxiety in the impressions my toes left on the damp asphalt from where I was tiptoeing hidden footsteps away from who i was. Trying to run and hide from myself when I could feel the tethers around my heart slipping away, purple and blue unraveling from around my body, followed closely by red until the idea of who I was meant to be, who the guilt wanted to make me, consumed my heart and suddenly… the hesitation was gone. 

The idea that this wasn’t  _ me _ absent.

And i felt it then, rooted in the thick muscles tensing beneath the strain of my fight. 

I wasn’t  _ Peter _ any longer.

“Venom,” I hissed over my shoulder after I’d turned, offering the man a grin as I lunged up and latched on to the side of the bricked building, hanging from a five finger grip that, with a small swing forward, had the pads of my fingers dragging down across the bumpy, uneven surface. “That will dissolve in two hours,” 

And just like that, I was gone.

The black in my heart, that I had felt for months, wrapping around my body in a layer of added protection, of skin, acting as a suit without the hassle and with one last breath, I was leaping, becoming weightless as I soared from rooftop to rooftop, and my face was being enclosed by the same darkness.

~~~

Something must have mutated me while in the Realm of Souls, they’d all decided as they read the morning newspaper that was plastered with photos from yesterday’s field trip. I was infected by something, and Tony’s death had activated it. Intensified the effects of whatever  _ wrong _ was coursing through my veins. 

But they couldn’t have been any more wrong. I didn’t feel wrong.

For the first time in months, I felt  _ right. _

“Maybe this is what he needs?” Rhodey said from his place leaning against the bar, all the Avenger huddled close by, unaware of me pressed flat against the outside wall of the tower. “This is probably therapeutic. He’s getting out all of his anger out and at least it isn’t directed at us this time,”

“He’s hurting humans, Rhodey!” Steve argued, fueled on anger as he flicked a wrist towards the black “Spider-Man” that had been captured in photo in his retreat from the scene with the three burglars hanging upside down from the white pillars at the bank, ones arm bent at an ungodly angle, ones eyes rolled back in his skull with blood oozing from the long gash across his skull and the other was looking horrified at his attackers back, face black and blue and before; before I allowed myself to lose control, I’d never hurt a human. Never allowed myself to abuse my strength like this but christ did it feel good. 

“At least he hasn’t killed one!” Nat defended, “and he’s still technically doing his duty as Spider-Man. He just has a wardrobe update and can you blame the kid? I wouldn’t want to swing around, saving lives in the suit that my..”

“His what, Nat?” Clint countered. “Do you even have an answer for that? Tony was his mentor! We are all acting like Peter just lost his husband when, lets face it, his hero worshiping had gone on for far too long. Tony wouldn’t address it because he didn’t want to hurt the kid, and we all pretended we didn’t see it.” He gave a tired sigh. “And look where that’s got us. A lunatic superhuman who is out of control and has adopted all the traits of the people we were designed to take down.”

I couldn’t listen to anymore, couldn’t listen to them dissect my feelings, my emotions, my reaction to losing someone who may not have been my  _ husband  _ but was more to me than he was to them. 

So I left, heart strangling me, unaware that they would continue talking about me; unaware of my presence and even more unaware of my absence.

“You know as well as anyone in this goddamn room that those two weren’t just mentor and mentee,” Nat said, hand already at her waist where her small knife was sheathed, tucked away in the leather case hidden in the waistband of her pants. “Peter has every right to hurt, and you don’t get to discredit his pain like that, Clint. We’ve all been where he is. We’ve all hurt people to stop ourselves from hurting and I swear to god, you lay a hand on him and you’ll have to deal with me.”

“He’s right,” Bruce cut in, defeated. “Peter will continue to spiral out of control. I noticed the signs at the funeral, just chose to believe they’d go away on their own. We have to act while he’s still there, while there’s still parts of Peter in him, before he goes too far and kills someone-“

“It’ll be too late then,” Bucky finished for Bruce, voice gone thick as his own memories and experience vibrated his vocal cords. “He’s not killed anyone  _ yet,  _ Nat. And we don’t want to wait and have that opportunity arise for him and chance stopping him too late. You know he could never come back from that. Peter is strong, but he isn’t strong enough to deal with that.”

“None of us were,” Wanda whispered from her spot leant against the archway, her shorts swaying from the movement as she pushed up from the wall and walked towards the group of furiously whispering people. 

The remaining avengers shared a look, one that couldn’t possibly be dissected by the untrained eye. It was packed full of years of hurt, betrayal, denial and guilt, hundreds of lives resting in the heat of the gaze, thousands of families affected by their decisions, by their poor choices. It was a look that scream love and sacrifice. A look that, despite the sensation of falling, was bringing them all together. 

Nat gave a nod. 

“Then it’s decided,” Bruce began, clapping his hands together in a gesture meant to bring the idea together, not startle everyone into a tight postured position with wide eyes.

“We stop the spiderling,” Thor finished.

~~~~

I’ve crossed every line, broken every boundary, leaped across the field of ever coming back and landed in a mangled mess of black webbing that glistened in the sun, fist leaving an impression in the softened grass as my head lifted to find the wide eyed gaze of the woman who stood before me, not as a shy girl hiding her emotions, fueled by the idea that she didn’t belong, but as a self assured woman with fear an undiluted emotion on her tense face.

“P-Peter,” she whispered in a gasped, breathless sob as her shaking hand lifted to cover her gaping mouth, jaw unhinged. Disbelief a flicker in her warm eyes. 

The black suit, that I’ve come to accept as a second skin seeing as this was the  _ first  _ time i was breathing in a lungful of air that hadn’t been filtered through whatever the material was made of of the impenetrable suit that came with the black webbing, peeled away and left me visible. Arising the opportunity to be picked apart by the prying eye, unclothed by the worried gaze, seen for all I was lacking and pegged for all that was new. 

She glanced over the wrinkled AC/DC shirt, didn’t comment on who it belonged to, on how it looks as if it’s been worn so long whatever scent had lingered in the woven material would no longer be able to be picked apart from the other scents now clinging to the cotton. Trailed down the arms bulging with muscles, focused on the thin wrist where the bone was protruding against pale skin, blood veins a very prominent blue, nearing purple slash of branched out trails that canvassed my clammy skin with some markings. 

Unhurriedly let her eyes focus on the hollowed points of my cheeks, the darkened markings beneath my eyes, the shabby hair that sat on my head and the chapped lines of my lips that were curled in a self glorified smirk.

She didn’t like what she seen, how disheveled my appearance was, how out of control my dead eyes looked, how unhinged the flickering gaze seemed as it focused on anything but  _ her. _

Pretending was easy, convincing myself everything was fine was  _ easy _ , if I wasn’t intentionally seeking out the promise that it wasn’t. The knowledge that I wasn’t okay, that this wasn’t a dream, that I was really floating through life as a ghost, hidden in the shadows like a predator, striking whenever given the chance, hurting without the intention of saving. 

Venom sneered at my attempt at grasping for control, threatening to enclose us once again in a cocoon of black if i attempted to anchor myself to the beating heart of New York and  _ hold on. _

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She snapped, the fingers wrapping around my bicep in a firm, tight grip that was unrelenting in the curled, vice like grip as she gave a firm shake like she could actually shake common sense into me. Like the hold could bleed her desperation into my bloodstream and make me feel how scared she was for me. How her hard gaze was nothing more than a look borne out of fear. “You’re hurting people, Peter! Forget about how incredibly fucked up that is for a second, okay? And take a second to look at yourself,” 

Her eyes flickered over my body once again as a tight whimper fell from her lips.

“You’re killing yourself,”

I rolled my eyes and with a brush of a hand, little effort given into the movement, her hand was falling away and I was taking a step back. Aware of the prying eyes watching us in our secluded area of the park, hidden beneath a tree for privacy even if the low hanging branches offered none of that. Just a whispered breath of shade. “Wouldn’t be the worst out come of events,” I said, “I’ve already died, remember? Or did all of you just forget about that? About me being Thanos’ favorite little toy because he wanted to find out  _ why  _ my absence had sent Tony down the spiral path of self destruction.”

“I-I didn’t know,” and she had the audacity to look surprised, ashamed even, as she shuffled on her feet and the inflation of her lungs that had come with her anger was deflating and her arms came to wrap around her chest. 

“Of course you didn’t,” I snapped with a bitter, cut off laugh as my finger’s threaded through the greasy deck of cards that was my hair. Upsetting the loose curls enough that they fell in a heap of dead leaves on my head. “None of you asked. None of you even cared if I was  _ okay.  _ You just assumed that I was gone one second, and back the next. Not spending twenty four years trapped in my own personal hell,” 

I fixed her with a sharp, prying gaze. Noticed the sharp inhale at the years given a number that just couldn’t possibly be correct because it didn’t match their fife year time span. “Oh, you didn’t know, did you? Five years in the soul of Realms was equivalent to one year here, or at least it was in my  _ hell.” _

~~~

_ I was groggy, head dizzy as I stood on shaky legs that threatened to collapse beneath my weight and I could feel something was wrong. The quiet earth laid out at me feet wasn’t humming with life, with the near constant stream of chatter that my ears could never tune out enough that each syllable from each separate person was an additional slash of a cheese grater against my wrecked ear drum. _

_ Stars flickered above my head, the moon fat and white and creamy in the sky, a beacon of light that light up the otherwise dark space with some form of hope. Angling sharp shadows to be cast from the vacant buildings.  _

_ “Peter,” a distorted breath called, nothing more than a whisper that brushed across my skin in a rushed breath as the wind picked up speed. “Peter!” That one was louder, more relenting, demanding to be felt as the voice grew in volume. Strength.  _

_ I lifted my head to find Thanos, grinning from his place sat on a golden throne with skulls littering his feet with his left hand flashing rainbows across the dirty, dark walls of the cave that was somehow floating in the air, disturbing the visual pleasantry that was the moon. “Nice to see you’ve finally awaken,” he purred, his raspy, deep voice a booming vibration that wrapped around my body and automatically brought a shudder to the surface. _

_ And then it all hit me. The fight. The impending doom that hovered over earth, that threatened the galaxy, the death of not only billions of earth people but billions of other creatures that littered the galaxy like splattered ink droplets on a white piece of paper. Tony getting stabbed. Dying in Tony’s arms as I sobbed, as I begged him not to let me die, not to let me go, to let me live just a little bit longer. _

_ My apology for never being enough still sat heavy on my tongue, burning like an ember had been ignited in my stomach and with a small cough that dislodged it, it slithered up my throat in a burning trail and was left to sit on my tongue with my ashy words dying every time I opened my mouth to speak.  _

_ Thanos won. _

_ “Where am i?” I finally managed in a squeaky voice, barely audible but in the space around us, it was amplified, scream into the far distance. I could hear the hammering of my heart, feel my hands shaking with residual fear and remembrance of my death. Of the pain that came with disintegrating into a pile of ash. Each blink staining my eyelids with Tony’s scared face as he tried to comfort me while I was dying, tried to hold on when there was nothing more to hold on to.  _

_ Thanos grinned, splintered, rotten teeth even more yellow in the dark. “Welcome to the reality I created just for you,” he said, far too proud as he gestured to the buildings that were slowly starting to come to life. Lights flickering on in the stories high buildings, obeying their masters silent command. “You were a hard one, spider-boy. You had too many weak points. Your aunt May, Ned, Mj, Ben, the need to save people who wouldn’t even cast a second glance at you. Your pressure points were extensive, but I seemed to have found one that pushed all the right buttons.” _

_ With a subtle nod, Tony appeared before me, a flickering hologram of a blank gazed Tony who stood as still as a statue, face blank and fallen in a look of neutralness as his unseeing eyes locked with mine.  _

_ All the air was punched out of my gut, leaving me spent and gasping, doubled over as I sobbed for the air that refused to expand my lungs. “Ah,” Thanos gloated, “I thought as much.” _

_ “WHAT DO YOU WANT,” I cried out, clutching at the ground in search of purchase to keep my from completely sliding face first into the dirt.  _

_ “Get comfortable, Peter. I have many, many plans for you.” _

_ ~~~ _

He used me to find Tony’s weaknesses. Used me to find my weaknesses. Created a world where I had to watch Tony fall in love with Pepper Potts all over again as he snuck away to hide with me every night, offering lingering touches and soft glances with flirtatious remarks casually thrown over his shoulder as he swayed his hips everytime he caught me watching his retreating figure.

Thanos was taunting me with my deepest desire, getting to spend eternity with Tony, while torturing me for twenty four years. Making me watch as Tony and Pepper grew old together, as they had a family; a house full of children and slowly but surely I was forgotten. Pushed aside. Only ever called to attention when I had a duty to fulfill in the fake avengers tower but it felt so  _ real. _

Crying myself to sleep alone every night, clutching my pillow to give me something to hold on to.

The loneliness felt real and it just followed me back to earth. 

That Tony had made it so easy to fall in love, so deeply and fast that three days into the fake world and I didn’t care if it was  _ fake  _ because I still got him. I had him in more ways than I did on earth. I had him- I could feel him as much as I wanted. I could- he-

He would look at me with so much love that I would forget where I was, what was actually happening, and my liquified heart stopped trying to remind me that that Tony was fake because he felt real and.. and i was smitten.

For some reason, the bad was forgotten. The years I spent watching and saving Tony from dying over and over again only to be forgotten the second the mission was over- gone. And the good was there. Present in the flutter of my heart, the softening of my eyes. 

They were memories of a false world, but memories nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t- Nobody knew it was twenty four years. We all thought- Nat told me that Bucky said that it only lasted seconds for him. So we just assumed-“

“Save it,” I snapped, drawn from the memories I have refused to let myself get lost in and in their absence, a hot anger bubbled to the surface. Mj looked absolutely horrified as she swayed before me, stunned into silence by my actions, the malice in my voice, the complete and utter anger that was vibrating my hands. “I don’t give a shit about any of you, so you can all stop caring about me. It’s actually preferred. I lived without- without any of you for twenty four years. So just do me a favor and make this easier on both of us and let. Me. Go.”

Her eyes welled with tears, though I was certain they were from anger and not pain, even as her bottom lip wobbled and she took a step back as if on instinct to immediately remove herself from the equation, from the problem that was hurting her. I was that problem. “You can’t keep pretending that nothing is wrong. Eventually you’ll grow tired of lying to yourself and you’ll have to feel and acknowledge all the pain.” she said instead of the long rant I was sure I was going to get about her always being there for me when I’d been here, before the snap. About how much all these people loved me when not one of them has taken the time to ask me one simple question. 

_ Are you okay.  _

“Good thing I’ll be dead by then, huh?” 

I turned around to leave, the suit itching to enclose us once again in the protective layer to hide us from the glaring sun and the hard gaze, the sharp voice. “You were supposed to save him,” she called after me, the - _ who-  _ in question immediately drawing my feet to a halt as I sucked in a shaky breath through teeth. 

She sounded exactly like Nat. Prodding me, poking me in the places they new would spark a reaction but I was tired of being the clay on their work bench. Of being contorted and built to their standards. “I don’t know how,” I admitted, and Venom snarled in my head at the admittance that we had a weakness. Pounding away at my skull in sharp, jabbing fists, demanding I retract the pitiful words and say something, anything, to erase the hope I knew I’d just planted in Mj’s chest.

“You won’t find the answer in the humans you’ve been hurting,” she said, rushing to cut me off before I could erase the glaring white edging around her words. “Or in the bottom of liquor bottles. Tony left you the puzzle pieces. It’s up to you to find them and piece them together.”

“And why was this placed on my shoulders, huh? Why couldn’t he just let me  _ die?”  _ I demanded as I turned to face her, only to see she was already slowly making her way away from me, turning long enough as she trusted her instincts to guide her backwards in slow footsteps. 

“Goodbye, Peter,”

~~~

 

The ground was blurry beneath my feet, fuzzy around the edges and rippling with every wobbled step forward, making it feel as if any second, any one step forward would result in the ground crumbling away beneath my feet and some way, somehow, I would be sucked back into the place Thanos had called Earth. 

His own, personally created video game with live actions figurines.

Dizziness had struck the second I woke up from a quick thirty minute cat nap, and when I stood from my curled position on top of the tower, blinking away the blurriness in my eyes, the swimming dots floating around my pupil, I fell backwards and over the edge. 

The whistling of air sneaking through the layers of my hair, shouting in my sensitive ears like blaring sirens and suddenly, a tingle raced down my spine. Fast and sharp, jolting me into action and I flicked a webbing towards the middle of the tower, stopping just as my feet brushed the stained concrete.

I didn’t know what was wrong, what set my body off course, what was even going on and when I tried focusing on any one thing, the world just spun in three different ways. Bringing the doors to stark towers racing to my face, my clambering feet catching on the uneven sidewalk which resulted in me smacking into the glass and fell through the door that… shouldn’t even be open. Unlatched.

My eyes focused on the bent bars of what used to be the latch on the door, hiding sensitive sensors inside the metal that would be set off at even the slightest nudge after the alarm was set.

The lack of blaring alarms was enough to sharpen my gaze, bring the world into focus and allow me a second of undiluted concentration to focus on the patterned footsteps rumbling the floor above where I currently laid. Each step quiet, precise, oozing anxiety and caution with the carefully placed foot in front of the other. The two men falling into sync. 

And that worked, for some reason. Focusing on their footsteps, allowing my senses to drown out everything else as just…. give in. A delicious jolt of adrenaline shot down my spine, the glass from a shattered door (shouldn’t of been possible, which raised more than one alarm in my head) crunching beneath my feet as I stood. 

And with a blink, I was wrapped in cords of web, enveloped in the comforting darkness that was my new and improved suit. Everything came rushing back then, the knowledge of venom, of what I’d done, of who i’d been. What I’d said to Mj, done to those people. The surprising factor was the lack of a reaction. 

Venom… dulled my emotions, my feelings. Loosened my tongue and coaxed it into a soft taffy that was easily stretched if the person knew the right questions to ask. He focused on the anger, the guilt and general feeling of self loathing, and used that as a fuel. A common ground that we both stood on, coexisting as we carefully and quietly climbed the emergency flight of stairs, ears straining to hear for the two thumps of heart beats that I found were now several floors above me. 

I wasn’t aware of how they did it, of how they’d broken in to the most secure place in the entire world, but I had to pause for a second and realize this wasn’t the same world I’d left behind. Earth was different, and apparently their criminals were far more knowledgeable and superior than the ones I was used to taking down.

I wasn’t in a place that was so ignorant to the constant threats looming outside the protective layer earth provided, now having witnessed first hand would could happen in the blink of an eye. They changed, adapted. Conformed to fit the new standards and rules of the world and it was either smarten up and eat, or get eaten.

A sharp prod at the side of my head had me doubling over with a muffled groan as my fingers pushed harshly at the pain now crackling out in a webbing across my skull, intensifying as I grew closer to the noise that was no louder than a minimal inconvenience to human ears but was like the grinding of metal across metal, right next to my ear.

Venom screeched, the webbing peeling off my body in a parachuted cloud of black and I stumbled back a few inches, clawing at the tendrils of him still connected to my body and I knew what I was doing, knew I was fighting against myself for control over my own body but I pushed against him. 

Only for him to completely lay me dormant, regaining control of the situation and adapting to the noise that was now a low humming as he cocked his head, curious. 

Nobody could hear the screams, the empty pleading to be set free but it was there, in the hesitated tense of muscles as I took a step up the stairs, one more story up, one more to go. It was in the quiver of my hand that was hanging on to the bar for support, a sense of dizziness washing back over me as I fought for control, for dominance, forced to feel as venom shoved back against my push and refused to back down. 

_ Refused to let me go back to the pitiful life I’ve been leading.  _

I didn’t know how I’d gotten so lost to him, to his call, or when I’d really even began to listen to the silent commands he stroked across my nerve endings until they signed themselves into a nothingness. Leaving me with the burnt endings to dull my emotions, my senses. Clouding my vision with a dark, black cloud that was really an illusion made by my body burning from the inside out. 

But he called the shots now, and I was a pliant doll bobbing away mindlessly as he stopped outside the door of what used to be Pepper Potts unofficial office.  _ Two stories up _ , Venom gloated with a sneer,  _ and they would have found all the beautiful treasures the “heroic” genius left behind in his wake. _

Pity.

With a snarl that reverberated within the four main walls of this room, extending to brush the waiting room with a receptionist desk placed hazardously in the middle of the floor, Venom dropped to a crouch that barely licked the surface of his predatory senses and he offered a wicked grin that went to waste due to the mask not moving. “Were we having a party?” I asked, feigning shocked as a gasp sizzled along my teeth, hurt echoing in the roots, “and nobody told me? Just like the avengers, am I right?” 

With a rye chuckle, I flicked a web out in the middle direction of my surprise visitor and caught the glowing red laser pointer that was in their hand, the red beam slicing a triangular pattern in the floor as it flew towards me and landed before rolling to a stop and resting against the tip of my foot, the laser now off and both men inching their hands towards their guns. 

“Can’t we just talk?” I pouted, Venom far to pleased at the events that laid out before us as he worked our legs into a standing position. He refused to let me acknowledge where we stood, or who had, years ago, stood just feet in front of me with the delusional offer of me becoming his youngest avenger. It had been after the -not- press conference, but before the events of Titan. A perfectly balanced place of harmony that sat sandwiched in the middle that were now nothing more than painful memories that had no right to be dredged up from the past. 

At the sudden shooting of a gun, I avoided the bullet that barely grazed the still rippling air of where my shoulder had been and pouted further. “Nobody ever wants to talk.”

Venom loved that.

~~~

I  _ couldn’t lose control.  _

I struggled against venom, against the claws he sunk into the knot of pain, heartache and every form of betrayal one could feel that twined with my stomach and refused to leave even though I stood motionless in the middle of a room with broken chairs, crumbling walls and bullet holes littering the floor and walls; piercing the picture I stood before. It was in Pepper’s office, where I’d found out they were attempting to steal one of the earlier models of a repulsor that had, apparently, carelessly, been laid to rest in her desk drawer, now forgotten to anyone of importance, where it has remained for years. 

_ “He told us it was here!” The guy with a busted lip scream— his trigger finger broken and bent to lay flat across the back of his hand as scrambled back on his hands and knees, over the splintered wood and bullet casings, to get as far away from me—  _ venom _ , as he could. “Her prior assistant! We were offered thirty five million for it! They just want the technology. Surely you can understand, right? We need to protect ourselves now that that fucking maniac isn’t here to protect us.” _

_ Tony was the maniac.  _

Turns out his rambling was just a distraction, a quickly dashed out plan and if not for the quick yet subtle flick of his eyes over my shoulder, I wouldn’t have been aware of the sound of a gun cocking. Nor would I have stepped aside in time to watch, in what seemed to be a slow motion drawl of the bullet buzzing by my head, before it planted itself in the wall to the right of me. 

Followed by a dozen more, all dodged, all sinking into the wooden beams and pillars and I cursed under my breath, questioning whoever the fuck was cruel enough to claim this world as their own, where the  _ fuck _ the avengers were when it had seemed they couldn’t leave this place long enough to stare at their own ass in the mirrors reflection of the front doors.

And that’s when my eyes caught sight of the framed picture that dominated the room, but hadn’t been visible before due to the poor lighting. With the hanging fixture, that was now broken and flickering in time with my heartbeat, it illuminated the photo in a flashing of white, haunting the paint that decorated the canvas with carefully stroked brushes and all the air left my lungs. 

Shocking Venom for just a second, just a  _ second _ as every possibly emotion dominated my body and drew my moving limbs to a halt to just openly stare, fixated on the motionless eyes that drew me in to the touchless caress it was offering. Comforting even if they were unblinking. Unseeing. Because right now, I felt as if I was being called out. The smug smile with raised eyebrows daunting me, pressing in a cocky yet questioning voice,

_ What now, Underoo? You’ve got yourself in a bit of mess and what the fuck are we going to do now? _

Then in a softer voice, just barely brushing the mental strands in my mind that had familiarity ringing in the neurons,  _ What are we going to do with you, Kid? _

Nothing. They were going to do  _ nothing _ and venom was sure of that. Was sure whatever power that framed picture held over me, was thoroughly revoked and squashed in the dirt and he picked up one of the burglars by his neck and threw him against the painting. 

The entire canvas shook, a breath hitched on my lips as it unhooked from the wall and came crashing down on the man, burying him beneath a weight that made him cry out in pain as the frame smashed into his dom and he was immediately out. Leaving me to deal with the other bottom dweller who was shaking in his quick retreat, backing away with hands raised and eyes wide. “What the fuck are you?” He questioned, voice wavering despite the calmness of his eyes, the even gaze. “That alien guy did this to you, didn’t he? You are one of the returned souls.”

Venom preened at the mention of Thanos, grateful to the alien for bringing him such a power as the kind he had right now, such a right to claim anger in a way that rolled my shoulders in a quick effort at brushing off the emotions brought on by the painting.  _ Emotions weren’t needed,  _ Venom sneered, loud and clear in my head,  _ they make you weak.  _

In three strides, painting the floor with the webbing encasing my body as it peeled away and left the patterned footprints in black webs across the carpet, I was grabbing the guy by the neck, the rush of cold air washing over my face dismissing any heat that may have flared loud and clear in my pale skin as I let myself become known; visible. I slammed him into the wall, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull from the force before they blinked unfocus down at me.

“I want you watching me,” I whispered in a smooth purr as my finger scratched down the length of his cheek, across his jawbone and coming to a stop above the curled part of my finger that was wrapped around his neck. “Watch me as i understand your problem. As I protect the people in this city from idiots like you  _ ever  _ getting their hands on a technology as dangerous as… as..” and venom must have stumbled in his control of my body because I couldn’t say the  _ word.  _ Which was quite fucking ridiculous because it wasn’t a word that he had  _ ever  _ owned. Yet it seem like it owned  _ him.  _ Denying anyone a chance of ever forgetting who gave life to that word in a way that nobody else could.

Recognition spawned in the guys eyes, bright and gleaming as his lips curled in an amused smirk even as his kicking legs began to lose feeling as he was slid further up the wall, airway becoming impossibly closed off as I squeezed  _ harder.  _ “You c-can’t even say it, can you?” Was the gurgled attempt at a question that the guy asked, decrypted to make it a coherent sentence. “Iro-“

“Stop!” My head twitched to the left, watching as a hunched figure raised to a two legged stance, bulk shoulders hunched forward with a reflection of power, strength; an unbridled bunch of muscles that quivered beneath the tan flesh. Eccentric dances that glided down his body in ripples and flashes of blue; an unrestrained trickle of power creating their own lightning show that tapped the carpeted floor with an accuracy that seemed to lull Thor in a step closer, lost to the lightning that glazed his vision as he stared me down. 

“I do not want to hurt you, Spiderling. I understand your pain.” Thor began, voice booming with a usually hidden sense of authority that rang like a secluded boom of thunder, making his words run laps around the closed off room in crackles of electricity.

” I lost my brother.” He added in a much softer voice, sparking the closest outlet to me into a burst of flames, simmering down to a spark of blue before it just disappeared in a cloud of smoke. “Believe me when I tell you I sympathi—“

“It wasn’t the same,” I snapped, hissing like a caged animal, retreating into the comfortable mindset of Venom, allowing him complete control. With a disgusted roll of eyes, I dropped the sack of meat and bones to the floor, the heap unmoving even as I nudged my way past it, prodding at a soft tummy that expanded with a large inhale of air. Not dead, just passed out.  “Your brother didn’t spend years driving himself mad, trying to find you. Did he?” Venom’s eyes dropped in a slip of aroused interest as Thor visibly gulped, the tremble of his hand chasing up his arm and down his torso, causing a twitch of his leg that jerked in spastic motions that made his entire body tense involuntarily every few seconds. “No. Loki died in his pitiful attempt at being a hero. At least  _ mine _ succeeded in killing Thanos.”

Thor’s hard gaze slipped into one of conflicted torture, eyes clouding with a filmy substance, as if he was reliving the man’s death, over and over, never allowing your burning eyes to blink just so you didn’t miss a second of seeing his face. Contorted with pain was still a  _ glimpse _ at the very essence that was missing from your bones. His lip twitched into a tormented smile. 

“Always correct, Spiderling,” Thor spoke in a distant voice, the unsteadiness in the clamped vocal cords sending a sense of uneasiness trickling down my spine. 

_ React. Sympathize. Tell him you didn’t mean it. That you were allowing your own insecurities to seep into a description of the second most noble man you’ve known to die by the hands of Thanos.  _

A door swung open a second later, the blur of black and red as the silhouette glided through the shadows in a predatory hunt for prey, eyes focusing through the filtered smoke darkening the room and locking with mine. “It’s time to retire, kid,” Nat said, the drawn together eyebrows meant to translate the unmerciful glint in her eyes. The refusal to back down. 

And to match her stubbornness with an equal dose of cockiness, Clint strolled through the same door, decked out in his suit with his bow slung loosely over shoulder, at the ready to be drawn with a glinting arrow captured between his fingers. An attempt at being intimidated trapped in the straight arrow of his back, refusing to slouch even for a second as his shoulders tended with effort. “You weren’t going to take all the fun, were you?” He asked, snorting at the glare Nat threw him over her shoulder, the roll of her eyes mirroring the one in mine. The look that followed that scream fond annoyance gliding across her lips in a dart of her tongue.

“Hi, Petey,” he greeted with an ever charming smirk, eyes darting in fast zips across my body, assessing and in search of a weak point he must have found a second later because his eyes focused on the slight twitch in my shoulder, throbbing in time with my heartbeat from the wooden chunk of a chair one of the humans had used to hit me with.

They were drawing closer, magnetically pulling closer to me in timed footsteps that oozed a plan, evident in the track of their eyes, of self assuredness that rested in the way they carried themselves.

“These idiots break in and you’ve all what!” I asked with an incredulous wave of my head towards the ceiling, “been relaxing up there? Pampering yourselves with the luxuries of living?”

“We’ve been busy cleaning up your mess,” Banner cut in, his voice soft and timid compared to the strong vibrato of Clint’s voice. “Quite a name you’ve made for yourself, isn’t it kid? Reputation, too. Spider-Man gone dark,” he walked into the room, the absence of a shirt that wasn’t a flimsy under tee immediately setting venom on edge as he gave a disgruntled noise of disagreement, a sense of familiar friendship laying in these four people and it was possibly me that was slipping into coherentism, calling for pause on Venoms movements.

Bruce has every intention of slipping into Hulk tonight; the slight bounce of nerves in his body that was his effort in amping himself up and preparing himself for something he’s done naturally for years. Mentally preparing for the mental stretch and forceful push of hulks personality as he took hold of the reign. Driving Banners body like it was a perfectly familiar car that just got a new oil job.  

A groan rang out behind me, drawing the avengers attention to the criminal that lay beneath the painting. “Jesus Christ, Peter. You ruined the picture of him,” Nat gasped, taking a step forward in a panicked instinct before she immediately took one back and locked me with a watery gaze that was cut with a hint of hurt and disbelief. “That was the only one of that kind in existence. Pepper—“

“It was a picture, Natasha. A materialistic thing that held no importance in my life. Get over it and stop acting as if you ever actually cared,” I snapped in, cutting her off with a wave of my hand as I walked over to the man and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to his feet; toes barely brushing the floor before I lifted him as high as he could go and threw him across the room. The reaction was immediate as Nat sprung forward, clashing with Clint in a mess of limbs and heads that toppled both of them to the floor and Thor was left standing in front of Banner with a protective hand splashed across the humans shoulder. 

“All’s good, big guy!” He assured as he lunged and caught the mortal in his arms, the slamming of their bodies enough call for distraction as I casually walked across the room, making a show for the intense gaze of all their eyes, picked up the metal desk that clanked as the repulsor got disturbed and hit into the side of the drawer, something small and beady rolling inside the metal in tapped noises. 

“Is this your way of staking an intervention? Cornering me in a room with the hope that I’ll listen to your ridiculous rants on  _ how _ much Tony wanted me to live and how I’m just disregarding his dying wish?” 

And, I threw it. 

Nat and Clint were rolling out of the way in quick summersaults across the carpet and towards safety, and in a flash of green, the desk was slamming into the corner of Hulk’s shoulder and I grinned at the roar of the giant. Venom wanted a dance, and the others were too composed and practiced to give in with little persuasion.

“Banner, no!” Nat shouted, followed by Clint’s,

“Thor, get Banner before he kills the kid!”

In strokes of green and teasing of red, we met in the middle of the room, Hulk’s meaty hands clambering to get a grip around my waist but with a kick up, I was twisting and soaring over hulk, the tip of my nose brushing the ceiling before I tucked and rolled across the floor, hand sliding across the carpet for traction to slow me to a stop in the corner of the room as I grinned up at the giant, the black webbing that I held the other end to, clinging to his broad shoulders.

“What’s the matter, big guy? Still angry and horny cause poor Bruce can’t land the date with Natasha?” I asked, grinning tauntingly, aware of all the buttons that were possible to be pushed when Hulk was in control because he was so much more less closed off and cautious than Banner was. He was reckless, careless. Managing to get hurt with a pulsed brush of a word across his heart but the actual act of getting him to bleed was an entirely different situation. 

Hulk growled, grabbing hold of the webs and starting to rip them off as I pulled and twisted, fighting against the weight as I built up the momentum and grounding to fling the hulk through the glass but with a sharp searing in my thigh, I glanced down to see a feathered needle sticking out of my leg as a warmth pooled in my body. 

“This isn’t you, Peter!” Nat cried in a pathetically pain ridden voice, eyes wide and watery as she held the gun in a steady hand, the next needle already cocked and ready in the barrel focused on me. 

“You wouldn’t listen to reason,” she added in a convincing tone, the next needle jabbing into my shoulder with a dull sound of flesh being pierced and the world was drawing to an out of focus thumping of images. 

“I’m sorry,” was added in a voice that sounded fairly similar to Banners (which shouldn’t be possible. He had no control over the giant,) but I couldn’t focus long enough to see as my body became weightless and I was falling back into waiting warms. The drugs coursing through my veins strong and soothing, cording through the strings keeping me coherent and lulling me into a gentle sleep that wasn’t ridden with memories and flashes of Tony, before and after death. There was no acknowledgement of how empty inside my chest was, a cave that echoed with want and throbbing agony now that it was faced with a lose I never imagined losing. 

The last thing I seen was the painting of Tony in the Iron Man suit, the very first prototype he’d made that was still flawed yet perfect with the intricate and delicate forming of wires and curves of metal to make shoulder pads and chest plates. His helmet was sandwiched under his arm, the gawky flash of his repulsors a reflection of silver that was caught in rays of light that danced off the canvas. Tony looked so cocky then, so self assured and not as haunted as he would one day be. 

Even with a rip through the canvas that split his face in two, he was still smiling and finally, I gave in to the exhaustion and two warm, strong arms wrapped around my body and for  _ once,  _ I wasn’t reminded how wrong they felt and how they  _ weren’t  _ the arms I wanted to feel around me. 

But my weighted tongue refused to move and I refused to fight the intoxicating slumber that was quick to claim me. 

Drawing a blankness over the dark corners of my mind. 

~~~

*Third person POV*

Bruce hovered outside the tinted glass, hand carding through his hair as his nerves got the better of him and left his nimble fingers shaking, flexing and unflexing in desperate attempts at stopping the tremors completely. Hulk was still humming beneath the surface, upset and sheathing as he eyed the spider-boy he thought to be his friend but there was an aching in Bruce’s shoulder that begged to differ. 

“ _ That not spider-boy,”  _ Hulk grunted in Banner’s head, pouting and angry as they both, in turns, watched the black creature crawl across the ceiling before he tipped himself upside down and hung from a single black webbing.  _ ‘Spider-boy nice to hulk,” _

“I know that’s nice spider-boy,” Bruce sighed, startling Nat who gave him a once over glance, worry evident in her eyes but she hid it well with a sarcastic, 

“Talking to yourself again, Banner? ‘Bout time you stopped blaming your bouts of psychosis on poor Hulk and admit you’re going insane,” hulk purred in agreeance, preening at the agreement of Nat even if she was bashing his hostess.

Bruce rolled his eyes and sighed, drawn to the calculated turns and flicks of Peter’s head as he inclined his ear towards them, as if he could hear their muffled words through the glass but this room was complete spider-proof. Not a single word slipping through the carefully constructed walls or glass. 

Still, his stomach gave an uneasy roll as Peter’s masked eyes locked with his through the tinted window. “I may not be able to hear you,” came the groggy, distorted voice through the speakers, feedback hissing as they struggled to completely capture his voice. “But I know you’re out there, big guy. Wanna play? Show me just how wild you can get?” 

Nat took a step back from Bruce, hands lifted in mock fear as Banner’s face suddenly contorted, going from white to green as Hulk surged forward, fighting for dominance as he gave a loud, “NO!” Scream in protest before settling back down and leaving Bruce panting, eyes soft and apologizing as he gazed at Nat. “He doesn’t like it when the black spider-boy taunts him,” he offered as a pitiful explanation, a thin layer of sweat slicking up his forehead. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said sincerely, her own eyes hovering on Peter through the glass. “He knows the hulk is the most unstable and if he can lure him out, none of us will be able to stop hulk from smashing into that room and setting him free. So you and the big guy either need to get on the same page, or you need to leave this to me. I can handle this. Go get some rest,” her eyes flickered over his body in an assessing motion, “after tonight, you deserve it.”

Bruce was the most guilt ridden, somehow believing he was to be the one blamed for this sudden Venom spout and Peter losing control because he didn’t insist the boy seen someone to help him through his problems even though he knew that was very much needed. Like tony, he shouldered a blame that wasn’t his own. 

Bruce cringed, like the offer was tempting but he was internally battling with the idea of leaving her alone. “You sure? I can-“

“Go, Bruce,” she pressed, irritated with the lack of convincing her own voice held when she followed up with a quick, “I got this,” 

When, in truth, she really didn’t have this. She was set on edge, forced to watch the boy struggle in his imprisonments, the boy she’d grown close to, nurtured and cared for like he was her own son and the five year long absence was enough to break any soul. She understood Tony on a deeper level, on why he did what he did. Peter may not be hers, through blood or any of these other human things that lays a staking claim on another human, but he was  _ hers  _ to protect.

And watching as he struggled against the dark virus that has entrapped his heart in its dark webbings, would quite possibly be the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. They were waiting it out, giving Venom a clean, stale environment where they could run any number of tests and see exactly what set the black virus off. What dug beneath his skin and would make him detach from the boy.

Whatever Bruce said after that, a department or an argument, Nat didn’t hear. She did, however, see the slump of his shoulders and the way his lips fell in a frown before he turned on his heel and began his tired retreat down the lengthy corridor, up the stairs and back onto the main level of the tower where the rest of the Avengers were attempting to cleanup the disastrous mess they’d all, including peter and those two humans, had made. 

At the sound of the closing door, Peter’s head jerked up, palm flat against the ceiling of the room. He could feel the vibrations, she noted, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Leaning forward, she pressed the small red button on the lengthy metal desk. “How you hanging in there?” She asked, smirking despite herself at her own idea of a joke.

To her amusement, Venom sneered at the attempt. “I’d be better if you would all just fuck off and leave me alone. Why can’t you accept that I want nothing to do with you?”

“Tell me about it,” she said, ignoring everything else he’d said in favor of dredging up his past, “Tell me what happened to you in the Realm of souls.” 

And that struck a cord, because he was falling from the ceiling and landing on the ground with a silent thud before he stalked forward and came to a stop in front of the reflective window, acting more like a police room than anything else. “In the Realm of souls,” he began, and she noted the slight quiver in his voice that he hid with a bang against the shatter proof glass. “You all left me alone. I was  _ alone.  _ And the idiots here can’t seem to understand that’s how I prefer things. I want to be alone,”

And he sounded about just as convincing as Nat did when she told Bruce she wasn’t interested in him, romantically or otherwise. 

“And if Tony was here?” She questioned, watching as he visually jerked back at the name as if it had physically harmed it, “Would you still want to be alone if it were Tony sitting out here right now? Talking to you?”

“You’re not Tony,” he snarled, surging forward again and this time, his fist left a noticeable dent in the glass that didn’t shatter, just contorted around his fist as he took a hard, deep breath in. “You’re just a lonely woman who can’t accept she was bred wrong and was made to kill others, not love them. You’re a killer, not a lover, Nat, and by you being here, talking to me and leading Bruce on, you’re just playing pretend and it’s about time you accepted how fucked up you are so you can save us all the pain from dealing with you for another second,”

Nat scoffed, acting as if what was said didn’t literally obliterate her heart. This wasn’t  _ Peter.  _ Something she had to remind herself as she pressed down on the button again. “That may be so,” she began, keeping her voice level, even, void of any emotion, “But at least I’m not pretending I didn’t die, get sent to a hell for over two decades, only to come back and realize the hell never ended. You lost him, Peter, and it’s about time you stopped pretending and hiding your emotions behind this sudden fucking superiority complex.” 

“I’m not pretending anything,” he barked, pacing now, desperation speeding up his legs as he tried to outrun the emotions running rampant in the shuddering of his spine. “I didn't lose Tony. He was never mine.”

“That wasn’t true, kid, and we both know it,”

His head snapped up at that, somehow seeing her through the glass as his face mask peeled back and the black sludge was left to pool around his neck. His eyes looked tortured, tired, sleep deprivation evident in the dark bruises under his eyes but most of all, he looked devastated. Crushed. 

“How am I supposed to sav-“ but at the sound of the door opening, more of a vibration across the bottom of Peters feet, he was rushing back up the side of the wall with his mask back in place and he was hiding in the darkest corner of the room. 

Unmoving, and refusing to speak anymore as Clint took over the next shift.

~~~

Three days turned into a week, that week into two and with the third quickly approaching, they called in their last hope. Their last effort at dragging Peter from the quicksand he’d buried himself in. Offering him the hand of a woman who not only could understand and sympathize, but speak the truth in a way that scream conviction, tenderness.

Pepper arrived not even thirty minutes after Bruce had called her, explaining in a soft tone what was going on and she scream- of course she scream. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” She asked into the phone, already instructing Morgan to put her shoes on as she silently did the same.

They lived on the outskirts of the city, where civilization was absent in the trees and the running water falling in dangerous waves off the small waterfall that sat in her backyard. All man made, she’d admit, but nothing about it was generic. They were safe out here, hidden, and it was a comfort.

“We didn’t want to worry you,” Bruce admitted sheepishly as he scrubbed at the back of his neck, fighting off the urge to yawn. “You already have enough to de-“

“Cut the bullshit, Bruce. Tony died. I lost him, but he wasn’t mine to lose at the time and I had years to prepare for his death. Don’t act like this was all some big shock to me. I’m still Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark industries but that doesn’t mean I stopped giving a damn about you guys. Now, hang up the phone, go down and make sure his spider ass is still in there. I’ll be there in twenty,”

And with that, she was ushering Morgan out of the house, into the private self-flying Jet Tony had insisted gifting them an odd number of years ago, and they were off. Landing on top of the towers within minutes.

~~~~

“Is he in the cells in the basement, or the ones on the upper floors?” Was the first thing she asked as soon as the elevator dinged and the doors opened on the first level of stark towers, revealing a sight that had her heart tighten in her chest, a sight that used to make her knees go week with the realization that her- that Tony had all these people looking out for him. Even sleep deprived and guilt ridden they were a sight for sore eyes, an image to behold, all still standing tall and bold, radiating power and hostility even if none of them realized it. 

They were the Avengers, a fact that would always remain a truth even with the very prominent gap between Nat and Steve, left for the man who would never return.

Pepper shook of the flood of emotions and squeezed her daughters hand. 

“He’s in the basement,” Wanda said, offering a kind smile to Morgan as she crouched down and held a hand out to her. “The cells on the upper floors wouldn’t have been able to hold him. The ones in the basement are made with five feet slabs of concrete and reinforced steel to keep any sounds from entering the room without the use of the intercom.”

Pepper nodded, watching as Morgan happily clambered towards Wanda who was, not that anyone was shocked, easily her favorite. Wanda offered Pepper a wink before her and the little girl slinked off in the opposite direction, offering them a chance to talk amongst each other without the little girls sponge ears picking up on the adult talk. 

“He’s bad,” Rhodey said as soon as he was sure the two girl were out of ear shot. “He’s been bad, I should say, but it’s even worse now. Nat has managed to get him to eat a little bit but I think that’s because he realizes if he doesn’t, he will die.”

“And the thing attacking him, the virus? Is it self made or attracted?

Bruce shook his head. “It wasn’t attracted. It’s not even a virus. It’s more or less a mental illness that has taken root in his bones and spread so deep down, that it’s physically changing his biological components. The suit he’s wearing is made entirely out of webbing, and he somehow absorbs the material everytime he wants to get out of it.”

Pepper nodded, remembering Tony telling her one stormy night about what he’d discovered laying dormant in Peter’s blood cells. It wasn’t a virus, or anything close to that, but it was the ability to adapt to his emotions and if an emotion was felt strongly enough, it would rewrite his hardware and more or less scramble his powers. While his tolerance seems to be on the fritz, considering a human dosage of tranquilizers had put him down, his webbing was rewriting itself and changing to allow his body to absorb it and call upon it as needed. 

Interesting.

“Show me down, then leave. I need to speak to Peter alone,” she said, and at the chorus of disagreements, on the reasons why that was a bad idea, she lifted a hand to silence them and rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t asking permission. If need be, I will show myself down and barricade both me and Peter in the basement. But I will be talking to him alone,” 

Nobody seemed happy with the idea, but Steve gave a reluctant nod and led her towards a door that opened and led down to a darkened staircase. As soon s they reached the bottom of the stairs and it opened up into a long, darkly lit corridor, she turned to Steve and gave him a light pat on his chest. “Off you go now, Mr. Rogers. To save the day, or whatever it is you do now days,”

“Be careful,” Steve warned, voice brimming with seriousness and worry as he cast a glance over her shoulder at the only cell in the hallway that was lit up. “That isn’t Peter. At least it isn’t Peter in his right mindset,”

She smiled softly, reassuringly, “Don’t worry, Cap. I can handle myself.”

Seemingly not convinced but realizing he wasn’t wanted, Steve gave a soft nod before he focused his eyes down the hallway and finally turned around and walked back up the stairs.

The echo of the door closing straining Pepper’s shoulders tight as she walked down the hallway, the click of her heels loud and echoing. 

“Pepper,” a grunted voice greeted her, low and raspy, vocal chords scratched raw to wrap around her name with what she wasn’t imagining to be complete loathing. 

“How did you know it was me?” She asked as she leaned forward to press the small red button, the buzz of the intercom making Peter jerk from his dangled position in the corner of the room. 

“The room may hinder my hearing,” he said, patting his ears before his hand moved to cup over his nose, his entire body still hidden by the black material they’d been talking about upstairs, “But my nose still works. You still smell like desperation and rejectment.”

Working in the position she has worked for years, with the man she had almost married, has allowed Pepper the opportunity to toughen up her skin quite a bit. Making what Peter said roll off of her in a pitiful attempt at hurting her. “And I see you’ve decided to self sabotage your life and kill yourself while you go on some vigilante strike over my Fiancé’s death.”

Low blow, she knew it, but if they were going to get anywhere, she needed to take direct hits at Peter and start directly out with what hurt him the most before they edged into the heavier stuff.

“Please,” Peter snorted, swinging back and forth now to hide the twitching of his body. “That man was more iron man than anything else. The fact that you still hold on to a title that meant little to him is pitiful on your part. He couldn’t even stand being with you. He had to resurrect a boy from the dead to deal with life.”

And they were getting somewhere, she noticed with a smug smile as Peter’s voice quivered ever so slightly. “That may be so,” she said, “but I still went to bed next to him every night. I still have a hold over him that not even you can erase. Tell me again, Pete, how many times did Tony tell you he loved you?”

The cord snapped that was holding him to the ceiling and he was so quickly standing in front of her, in front of the mirror, heaving with a heated glare as his suit peeled back completely and absorbed back into his skin. “Three words that mean nothing if you don’t have the actions to back them up with and I think he proved more than once that he loved me,” 

Pepper flicked the black button next to the window and suddenly, the shutters were lifting in a near silent flick and her and Peter were staring at each other. No more room to hide. And he blinked several times, while staring at the solemn face of a woman who looked as if she still had the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. 

“He did,” she assured him, soft and gentle. “You’ve just allowed yourself to forget that.”

Peter’s shoulders visibly sagged in his body’s attempt at giving in, but his dark eyes still scream with fight. “I haven’t forgotten anything. I remember him perfectly fine. I remember being strung along, made feel like a kid sitting at the adults table when I fought next to every single one of them when the time called, when I saved each one of their life’s more than once, when I was stronger than all of them. I remember never being good enough until their asses were on the line then it was time for little Peter Parker to swing in on his webs and save the day before he was made to return back to school, heartbroken and alone while Tony returned to you,”

He was hyperventilating, ragged breathes scratching his throat raw but she noticed his voice sounded more like the peter she knew, that his shoulders lost some of the tension and he was no longer shaking with the visible effects of anger taking its toll on his worn out body, 

Pepper shook her head, the action catching Peter’s attention immediately. “You’re remembering it wrong,” she breathed, tears already forming in her eyes, her own memories pounding bloody craters into her heart,, “I need you to remember him for me, Pete. Remember Tony, all of him. Can you do that for me? Can you remember him?”

~~~

I could. I could remember him.

~~~

_ Tony turned his head in my lap, static electricity sparking through his hair and shooting down my leg as he smiled up at me with tired brown eyes, his bandaged arm lifting only for him to think better of it with a wince and lay it back down across his chest, an amused smile curling the corner of his blood stained lip. “How long was I out for?” He asked, the smooth drawl of his voice sending ripples of comfort and pleasure up my spine in sparks of fire that ignited a fuse in my stomach and expanded it with a warm, fuzzy feeling.  _

_ I thought I’d almost lost this man and here he was, smiling so brilliantly up at me, ignoring his pain just to blatantly lie to me and pretend he wasn’t hurting even though he cringed and winced with every breath in. “A few hours,” I whispered, carding my fingers through his hair still damp with sweat. He relaxed at the feeling, humming as he closed his eyes. “Are you going to talk about what you did?”  _

_ Tony shook his head, eyes remaining closed but he still somehow managed to reach an arm up, without looking, and lace our fingers together with his good hand. Giving a reassuring squeeze that was meant for me to read between the lines.  _

I’m okay,  _ the squeeze said,  _ I’ll live. 

“ _ You can’t keep pushing me out of danger, Sir. You know that I can take it, so why do you insist on taking each and every blow?” I pressed anyway, brushing the back of my knuckles across the bruise that was a purple cloud on his cheek, puffy and angry. “It’s my turn.”  _

_ Tony eyes snapped open, capturing mine in a heated gaze that was so intense my cheeks erupted with a warm heat, red rushing to fill them out. To chase away the pale tints. “I know you can take it,” the man said, “you’re stronger than any of us here, Peter. But I don’t do it because you’re not strong enough. I do it because I can’t watch you get hurt.”  _

_ It was a whispered admittance, a declaration of love in Tony’s own words and I felt my eyes grow misty, fogging the edge of my vision. “And you think I can watch you get hurt?” I asked, poking at his ribs that were bound tightly, bruises a vest around his rib cage from where the concrete pillar had fell on him after he had pushed me out of the way. His suit held up for the most part, but even it could only take so much weight. “I’ve had to sit here, still, with your head exactly where it’s at because you couldn’t sleep otherwise. If I moved, you would whine in your sleep and what am I supposed to do with that Mr. Stark? How am I supposed to-“ _

_ “Don’t do anything,” Tony cut me off, “just stay,”  _

_ “What about Pepper? And the others?”  _

_ “Forget about them,” Tony requested, suddenly small and hopeful as his lips grazed the back of my hand in a silent, soft plea. “Stay with me?” _

_ And how was it fair? That a simple sentence was enough to bend my will power? To dissolve all fight in my body and turn it into mush when I had, for the past hour, recited my declaration of need for space apart to figure out exactly why I felt the way I did about my… mentor. How was it he could control my body without so much as a tug at the strings around my wrist? He was my puppet master, and his pleas were my commands.  _

_ “For how long, hmm? You can’t have me forever, Mr. Stark. An entire world waits for us outside these doors,” I teased lightly, hiding the hitch in my breath when Tony tipped his head back just a little bit further and he brushed the edge of my cloth covered crotch. He seemed oblivious.  _

_ His smirk said otherwise.  _

_ “A day after forever would be too short,” he teased right back, attempting to keep things light as he flinched and squirmed to find a more comfortable lying position. He ended with his head on my thigh, his arm bent up and over his head with his forearm resting against his forehead so our fingers could stay interlocked.  _

_ “You have to promise me something, Pete.” He said, suddenly serious with the joking banter gone, the light moment floating in the air like a feather that had just been doused with rain. “Truly promise me something, from the bottom of your heart. And not half ass promise for the sake of keeping me happy and content. I need you to promise me this with the intention of following through with it, alright?” _

_ Sacred now by the sudden turn of events, I give a silent nod and when he tipped his head back, Adam’s apple working on over time to bob against his tan skin on his elongated neck, I whispered, “I promise, Mr. Stark. Whatever it is you ask me to do, I will do it.” And he didn’t know how true that statement was.  _

_ He could request the moon, and I’d simply ask by when. He could tell me to commit genocide, and I’d stupidly oblige.  _

_ He could ask for anything, for I was his. And anything I could offer— anything he  _ didn’t  _ already have, was already a given. _

_ “No matter what happens to me, to us, you have to promise you will never lose yourself, okay? You have to promise that you’ll work through the pain, and the trauma, and go back to being the kick ass Spider-Man this city needs. Can you do that for me? Can you promise me that?”  _

_ I shouldn’t promise something like that, shouldn’t have to swallow furiously to force down the sudden lump closing off my air way at even the suggestion that something could happen to him, to me, to us, but I nodded nonetheless. “I promise,” _

_ He seemed to visibly relax at that, the urgency in his eyes evaporating away, the tense draw of his lips relaxing into a lazy grin. “Good,” he murmured. “I can’t have my Spidey going bad on me.” _

_ His spidey. I was his spidey. Was I? Was this him staking a claim on my heart that’s already been his since before he even knew of my existence?  _

_ As if this genius, this frustratingly particular genius, could read my thoughts, he gave a shrug and smirked. “Got a problem with that, kid? Being my spidey?” _

_ Say yes. Say yes. Say yes. Tell him you have a problem, save yourself before you’re in even deeper, before he can pull your foot into his side of the quicksand and drag you down with no intentions of helping you resurface.  _

_ I shook my head so quickly it made Tony laugh. “Good. Cause I don’t plan on ever letting you go,”  _

_ The truth was there, in his eyes, his smile, an admittance that was spoken without words, without urgency. A fondness seeping into the tremble of his lips as he once again drug them across the back of my hand but they hovered there, over my knuckles, and finally, finally, he kissed them. Soft and delicate. Like the bones were made of glass and perhaps they were? Maybe he was my kryptonite.  _

_ And that could explain the sudden weakening of my knees. _

_ “Promise?” I implored, aching for the confirmation that I was wanted, that I was needed, and that he would never let me go. _

_ “I promise,” he whispered, “and if I ever do, know I will find my way back to you.” _

~~~

I remembered. 

~~~

I fell to my knees as all the air left my lungs so quickly and so suddenly that I was left open mouth and gaping, having not the slightest clue as to how to inhale as my entire body shook with the force of a thousand years of heartbreak. Something was sucked out of me then, so forcefully I was knocked to my side, back arching off the ground as I struggled to breath, to grab onto something to give me purchase and drag me from the prison that was my mind. Playing endless loops of Tony in my head, congratulating me, encouraging me, looking at me as if I’d hung the moon when he was the entire fucking sun. 

_ “You did good today, Pete. I’m really proud of you,” Tony said, clapping my shoulder with a flashed grin that oozed pride and confidence as his suit peeled off of him and raced back into the arc reactor on his chest. Glowing a soft white that scream power.  _

Or

_ “Good boy, Peter! You’re doing good. Come on, I just need you to do one more. Can you do that?” Tony’s voice was echoing throughout the rubble, the silent humming of his repulsors keeping his afloat the only thing I could focus on other than the erratic beating of the heart below me as my muscles strained to lift the last chunk of boulder off the scared woman who was lucky enough to have been hiding under her desk when the first shot had hit, leaving her sandwiched in the small space and when I finally pulled her out, my lungs heaving as I coughed and sputtered up the dust and soot that had snuck in through the mask, Tony had went directly to me and enveloped me in a hug in his crushing iron arms as Steve took the woman. “I knew you could do it,” he whispered, “I’m so proud of you,” _

_ “You know,” I said, feeling as if I was hacking up a lung as I took in a deep, wheezed breath. “I had to lift a building off of myself before.”  _

_ Tony just grinned, and held on a little tighter. _

Or

_ “What’s the creepy old man’s problem?” Nat asked me as she nudged her shoulder against mine, jerking her head to the right and when I followed the direction I seen Tony was watching me, eyes filled with so much fondness and unguarded admiration that one would almost mistake it as a look of love. With all the sappiness included in the soft, scarily soft, smoothness of his face. No scowl. No hatred. No glare. Just… — _

_ “He, uhm,” I cleared my throat, jerking back into the moment with her when I realized I’d maintained eye contact with Tony for longer than was considered appropriate. “I told him I would stay here tonight, so he could get some rest. He’s not slept all week,” _

_ And if Nat wanted to know more, wanted to question it, she didn’t. She just nodded and bumped me with her hip as she asked, “pass me the cereal, will ya?” _

“That’s it, Peter, let it out,” an anchoring voice encouraged as arms wrapped around my body, holding me together with such a tightness I was convinced I was actually falling apart and with a gasping breath in, I was clinging to the body with a desperation that ravaged my body and I, for the first time in what felt like months, sobbed. “That’s it, baby, let it out. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re going to be okay,”

~~~

The alarms blared the second the door was open and Steve was the first one through the door, running down the stairs as he loudly cursed, “I knew this wasn’t a good idea. Pepper couldn’t handle seeing him like this,” 

They all ran, all filed into the hallway with their defenses high and on alert as they rushed towards the room, ready to fight, to attack even if it meant kill to protect Pepper. However when Steven froze, pale and openly gaping at whatever he seen through the door, it called for immediate attention and the other avengers filled in closer to see a sight they didn’t expect. 

A sight that broke each and every one of their hearts all over again, even Clint’s who was scrubbing at his eyes with a mumbled excuse of, “must be the dust down here,”

Pepper sat on the floor in the dark, shabby little cell in her white pencil skirt and her black blouse top and curled up in her lap, clinging to her with a dependency, his despondency aired and made aware for all to see as she rocked him and shushed him, brushing her fingers through his greasy hair and consoling him as his entire world came crashing down- was Peter. Not Venom, not another form of Peter. But the boy, who was just a little too lost for a little too long with no one there to tell him everything was going to be  _ okay.  _

“He loved you,” they heard Pepper whisper, and Steve let out a strangled cry he quickly muffled by biting his knuckles. “He did. He loved you and Christ, Peter. Don’t let anyone tell you what he did was your fault. Don’t take the blame like he did, and do not let anyone ever,  _ ever _ tell you he didn’t love you. That you weren’t the fresh air being breathed back into his lungs because you were and I seen it. The way he looked at you, was in a way he never looked at me. He needed you, and I’m sorry that he’s not here now that you need him but you can’t shut him out like that. You have to feel him, his memories. He was, and is, a part of you. Dead or not,” 

They knew then, that whatever venom may have been, whatever hold he may have had on peter, was gone. It was evident as his arms tightened tighter around Peppers neck and he let out a wailing cry that shook Stark Towers and was felt by each and every one of them. Peter was broken. A fragile form of who he had once been, being held together by a woman who understood him in ways no one else could. 

“You’ll be okay,” 

They heard Pepper assure him.

“I’m here now. Everything will be okay,”

~~~

 


	3. He was alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SUPER nervous for y’all to read this chapter. Not only is it highly unedited, but this is where the entire plot draws together and starts to make sense of everything. Gah, I’m excited! Also, there may be MAJOR flaws in this chapter, but I have never claimed to be a scientist nor a professional anything. So, if certain terminology is incorrect or certain things seemed dumbed down to my level to make it more authentic, I want to apologize before hand. 
> 
> Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Feedback is always appreciated!! 
> 
> (If you see these /// throughout the chapter, let me know. Archive was being difficult tonight and I had to go through the entire chapter, mark each thing written in italics, and then go through on this and fix it. -yes, I was even on rich text. It’ll probably be fixed tomorrow— rereading it /again/ was a little hard on my eyes, so I may have missed a few things. :)

They were reluctant to accept that I was back, the me that had been a bubbly teen the last time they’d seen me and not the personalized vigilante, face of unholy justice. Most stayed away, never bothering to stop by the room that was on the second to top floor of the towers, on the medical level that had oddly nice recovery rooms.

Nobody could put a name to what I was recovering from, but apparently malnourishment and dehydration was high up on the list of what was wrong with my broken, bent body. My skin a sickly grey the first night at the hospital, a steady stream of morphine keeping me high and calm all day, refusing to let me slip into any other mindset but a smiley, giggly fool who, in a rushed decision, just because I could, tipped my head back in the middle of a conversation, cutting off Nat and Rhodey who were in the middle of explaining to me the missions they’d went on last week,  and asked in a soft voice.

“Friday?” I haven’t entered the tower on my own will in, what truthfully were now years rather than just what seems as if it was an entire lifetime go, yet my lack of familiarness with the updated tower didn’t excuse the complete lack of Friday, who I was certain would have acknowledged the people breaking in and would have alerted all the avengers before the police, spouting eta’s to me as I fought the men.

She was gone, and when i got no response in a silence that spanned for the length of ten loud beats of my heart, I turned to face Rhodey, who stood at the far left of the room, next to the full wall that was a window that looked out at the ocean, red and yellow rays gliding across the water in promises of a cool night. “”She was shut off the day we left for battle,” Rhodey admitted a little sheepishly, “And she hasn’t been turned on since. We don’t know how she will react to Tony’s death, and what a masterless AI will be capable of,”

Which was, in all honesty, understandable. Friday wasn’t just a simple AI that inhabited Stark Towers. She had access to any electronically current that was buzzing in spinning circles around earth, and in seconds she could make everything collapse and begin the end of the world, the apocalypse; post Electronics.

“To-Mr. Stark would have added an emergency file for every outcome of any event,” I argued, cringing as I pulled myself into a sitting position and the needle for my iv tugged at the skin that was constantly healing around the needle and each movement was just reopening the wound: hiding the unintentional and very painful slip of my tongue.

Tony was Tony, but in situations such as right now he was _Mr. Stark_. Not their friends, their potential lover, but their boss who was an intellectually advanced individual who was too cautious to march into his death without offering Friday additional files for emergency situations. He was too good at what he did, and all three of us bowed our heads for a second.

“Here, give me a laptop and I can access Friday’s database and turn her on,” I asked, waving towards a computer that sat across from me on the large, overstuffed couch that set on the wall directly across from me, a mounted tv hanging in the middle of the room and offering both people from each viewpoint an option to watch the tv with the holographic projection.

“Peter,” Nat warned, holding up a hand to stop Rhodey, who was in the middle of a step towards the couch. “You need to rest. Have you even been on a electronic since you’ve been back?”

“Yes,” I snapped, a roll of my eyes immediate and unstoppable. Compared to my Thanos-earth, this earth was still far behind in their improvements and electronic advancements. Tony and I were in the process of working on a 3D holographic projection that would allow the user an option to experience everything that was going on around them when they were in the holo form, real life time. “I have a phone,” which, true, but since returning I have used it one day and ditched it since.

Having no one to call made it useless, pointless, even.

“And I’m fine,” I assured, itching to do something even though I’d been sitting in this room, perfectly content on being lazy and doing nothing and feeling nothing, for a little under a week. “Please? I-I need to talk to her.”

Apparently I was exceeding physically now, but mentally wise, I still had a ways to go.

A little more persuasion and the promise of eating a full, solid meal tonight without complaining or slipping pieces into the barf bag that was constantly next to my bed if my body decided to reject to fullness in my belly, and the laptop was handed to me and I was left to do my magic.

Already having an account that was linked to the mainframe that hosted Friday, hacking into the codes and encryption was made a lot easier on my side. Not to mention I was sure at one point or another the firewalls that popped up and a few of the codes that ran across the screen had started to spell out the lyrics for Tony’s favorite song to tease his teammates with.

_I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world._

Tony made it impossibly easier on my part, and I wasn’t sure if that was intentional until just before the last cyber wall fell down, a hoard of spiders ran across the screen with a winking iron man following them (making me laugh a real, gut laugh that raised eyebrows but wasn’t questioned) before the screen grew dark and a permission page popped up, prompting for a facial scan before a familiar voice echoed throughout the speakers on the computer.

“Hello,” the Irish voice said in a lilted professional tone, her basic default setting. “I am currently in hibernation mode. To awaken me, say the code,”

With a fond roll of my eyes that made my heart squeeze with painful remembrance, an aching for the simpler days of just me and Tony huddled in the lab, I uttered the code Tony had set one sleep deprived night because it had been a dare uttered out of my giggly lips, “Spider-man is Tony Stark's favorite Avenger,”

Immediately, a static feedback fed through the speakers in the tower before it secluded to our specific room. “Hello, Peter,” the AI said, acknowledging both Rhodey and Nat as well before her attention was redirected to me. “Your vitals are stable and you are perfectly healthy and virtually unchanged considering how long you have been gone, so why are you on the medical floor? Would you like me to alert boss?”

My heart stuttered in my chest, aching with want as I forced a smile. _Alert him,_ I wanted to say _, and tell him I love him._ “Friday,” I said, keeping my voice calm and even as I held level eye contact with Nat, who was breathing in deeply through her nose and exhaling out through her mouth, encouraging me to do the same and to keep myself collected.

“In the event of his death, did Mr. Stark have any emergency files programmed?” Rhodey finished for me, giving my foot a comforting squeeze in passing as he retreated across the room and set on the couch

“Yes, Mr. Stark has one file that is to be opened in the event of his death,” Friday confirmed, the tv in the room flickering to life as it selected a file and left it unopened on the screen. “Has Tony died?”

And the AI was created to be emotionless, unable to express any emotions let alone feel them but her voice sounded strained and tormented, thick and slow.

“Yes,” Rhodey whispered, turning his face away from both me and Nat to stare out the window at the now dark sky.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Friday said, and we were lying to ourselves if we tried convincing our minds that the squeeze in the AI’s voice was caused from anything other than the sudden urge to cry. “Would you like me to open the file?”

“Yes, please. Thank you Friday,” and i didn’t realize how much I missed the thing that wasn’t a woman, or even a human, but still someone I considered to be a close friend.

The lights in my room dimmed as the tv focused in on what appeared to be a play button, and when Rhodey instructed for it to be played, the room immediately filled with the sound of shuffling before Fridays voice rang out, “Initiating the ‘ _Itsy Bitsy Spider protocol,_ ” and a second later, Tony’s face was filling the screen and the air left my lungs in a rush as my stomach aches like it had just been punched.

I didn’t have time to laugh or even appreciate his beauty, or the name of the program for that matter, because he was opening his mouth and speaking. “ _If this file has been open,_ ” he began, the whiskey smooth purr of his voice licking down my spine i warm gulfs of air, “ _that means that situation Endgame turned out exactly as i suspected,”_ the sad curl of his lips was another punch directed to my gut, and as I doubled over in my bed, both Nat and Rhodey shuffled towards the door and left.

Knowing he had predicted his death, anticipated it for even a few seconds before it happened, hurt me in a way that the morphine couldn't touch. Like it scorned my actual soul. “ _Anyway_ ,” he jumped with a clap of his hands, his sunglasses becoming dislodged on his nose and he fixed them with a grumble. His lips fell into a serious scowl, his gaze focusing on the screen like he could see through it, pick me apart from the crowd. “ _Guess we did it, didn’t we, Pete?”_

The silent twitch of his lip was like telling sign, that he knew he had won and accomplished all he set out to do and the proof was in the name. He knew nobody but me would have been capable enough to access this file, not to mention no one else knew the code.

He shifted on his seat, the movement upsetting his shirt and my mouth went dry when I seen the very noticeable scar that ran along his side, his own evidence of Titan. And as if he could predict future me’s thoughts, he tugged the shirt down and shook his head, as if talking me off the edge of a panic attack that was blossoming in the confines of my lungs. “ _We won. Or at least I won. I got back the one thing this universe desperately needs, and got rid of their biggest burden all in one swoop.”_

He gave an awkward, lopsided smile and shrugged, looking unsure and that made my stomach roll. Tony was _unsure_ and to know that filming this video made him antsy and hesitant, pried a sob from my throat that was muffled as I buried my hand down my throat in an attempt to keep myself silent.

“ _Listen, kid, I know you’ll be told all the stories, and how I went on a path of self destruction and gave up my family to save you, but nobody could understand my actions. Strange, perhaps, because he was there to witness your death. How you clung to me, and begged for your life, for me not to let you go and the one thing I swore to never do, I did. I let you down and like I stated a million times before. Your death, that was on me”_

A deep, steadying breath and he pushed on, “ _I know you will follow in my footsteps, and binge yourself to death on your choice of poison before those stubborn ass avengers save you as they did me, and I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it but you needed this to be on your best game,”_ He took off his sunglasses, the hollowness in his eyes dissipating so clearly in the video as his pupils dilated and focused on me, constricting and pulsing as if they are physically seeing me and not just a holographic projection from months ago.

“ _Before we get into the heavy stuff and I tell you why I actually did it, I feel you are owed an explanation regarding Friday. With me now absent to fulfill the roll she needs as a master, I have given you complete and utter control of her in the event of my death and it can not be reversed. Sorry there, kid, but my AI is worth too much and if she were to fall into the wrong hands, she could end the very world. Keep her safe. Morgan may be my first biological child, but Friday will always be my first baby.”_

I gave a breathless chuckle, sniffling as I wiped my nose along the back of my hand. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered to the empty room, wishing he could hear the words I was speaking, if only to erase the look of complete and utter torture that were etching into his features and dominating the once smile canvas. “I miss you, and you’re beautiful.”

Friday being mine was something I couldn’t even focus on, something that would no doubt set my body into shock when I actually gave my brain a second to register the information. But for now, I was too awestruck and starry eyed to tear my gaze away from the scene and allow my bubbly brain a chance to think of nothing for once.

 _“Now, the good stuff. Grab a bottle of whiskey, kid, you’ll need it,”_ he said, clinking his own glass he lifted up that sloshed with brown liquid, against the camera lens in a way of saying a silent, _“cheers,’_ and with a sip of the burning liquid, Tony sucked in air through his teeth and looked at the screen again. _“Now, time to talk about the real problems. Why I did it and,”_ he paused, _smirking unwaveringly into the screen, “how to bring me back.”_

~~~~

Nat and Rhodey pressed about the video first, respecting my need for privacy and time but they waited a mere five seconds after the video ended and the world fell to silence before they barged into my room and demanded answers.

“Friday, update them on the Itsy Bitsy Spider protocol,” I said, dazed and overall confused as the tears dried on my cheeks and the gears began working in my mind. Digesting everything Tony had just told me, explained to me. Information I never even would have considered to be possible months ago, the lack of actual things creating a large dent on my quest to bring tony back but this- this _knowledge_ , changed a lot of things.

As they were given a run down of the protocol, the video locked on a separate server that only I had access to now, and told how I was gifted the title and ownership of Friday and exactly what the entailed, I stood to wobbly legs and carefully removed the needle from my arm, along with the few wires that had been necessary for my heartbeat and that honestly should have been the first sign that Friday was definitely absent.

“Where are you going?” Nat asked, rising to her feet with the intent on following, or stopping me if needed, but I held up a hand, one gripping to bed to keep my steady, and shook my head.

“I need to do this alone, please? I just need to go to the lab and… digest and work through everything he just told me. If.. If I can do this, Nat, I need to do it alone,”

She nodded, reluctantly falling back on the couch with a worried glance over my body. “Be careful, and have Friday alert us if you need anything. I’ll be down in a few hours for dinner.”

And with that, I left. As quickly as I could before she drug me back into the room and give me a few more stipulations. The trip to the lab was long and familiar, and if it wasn’t for the recent echo of Tony’s voice in my ears,  I don’t think I would have had enough courage to step up into that room that hadn’t changed a bit, with random items strewn across numerous tables, yet I did, and it seemed if that was when I let go.

Allowed myself to get lost in the files Tony had saved and separated for me, all time stamped and dated with files going back to as early as what have been times from when he had just been born. The instructions he left were clear, and if not for the coffee buzz and the need to prove myself worthy and do the last thing asked of me, I got lost in the task and forgot about time.

Did everything Tony instructed, developed an AI similar to Friday’s but with the scan of the hard drive stick I had found hidden in the lab, which I found under Tony’s specific instructions in the video, and there I found millions of files, memories. Every single thing Tony ever experienced, trapped in the waves from his brain scans and with the most recent technology he had invented just before he.. before he died, it translated those waves into memories that were fed in carefully looped visuals into the AI.

“Now listen, Peter, this will be the most difficult. The first few hours are crucial. After the AI has successfully been synced with my emotions, my memories, you have to lock it in a secure server in hibernation mode otherwise he will began to form as Friday did and that AI will be useless. He will grow and adapt the same as hers, and with the specific requirements we currently have, allowing that to happen would just be a waste we can’t afford,”

And of course I stayed awake during the entire process, worried the second I went to sleep that the files would be complete and I wouldn’t wake up until it was too late to salvage him. What Tony had failed to mention, I noted on day three of my coffee fueled insomnia, was it would take sixty eight consistent hours for it to finish.

The second i was notified the transfer was complete, I had been nodding off and awoke with a jolt as Friday notified me the now complete file had been put into hibernation mod and encrypted before moved to my own personal secure network that only I had access to. And it was then I realized I wasn’t needed during those thirty eight hours, and it was with that thought that I passed out. There. Leaning against the metal table with wires and silicone surrounding me in a hazardous mess.

Whatever happened in the months that followed were unclear. At one point, I ended up locking myself in the lab and refused to grant anyone access as I worked effortlessly on the newest section of the task. Taking cat naps on the couch and surviving on the coffee I made by the pot every hour, the thumping of my heart a near constant sound and feeling.

They all took turns leaving my food outside the door on a rollaway tray, and I had caved the first day the second I smelt the mouth watering aroma of bacon and it become a consistent thing after that. Three a day, one every few hours in timed meals and they all accepted that me holed up in there, working and not running rampant through New York City seeking justice, was better and I wasn’t to be bothered or interrupted.

During a break through one day, I ended up running through the towers in only my boxers and a stained t-shirt in search of Rhodey and the second I found him, I stole his phone and ran back to the lap, placing the chipped sims card into the Bio-bed and watching as whatever had been encrypted in the sims sparked the machine to life, drawing power from Tony’s genius ideas and bringing light to the parts I had played a part in. It was Tony’s design, with my changes and tweaks and it was me who was left to actually build it. Who had to come up with the solution to fill the tank with that would be suitable enough to sustain a life and promote cell growth.

Tony had used Rhodey's phone, knowing the man wasn’t technology smart so he wouldn’t have had a clue something was working different in his phone, his sims hiding the very power source and programming for the bio-bed.

The next step required a focus I wasn’t even aware I had, and with ideas bounced off of Bruce and Tony’s video he left for me playing on a loop, I managed to build the very last suit Tony would ever need. It was a tinkering of engineering, plus Dr. Banners own research and solutions and negative outcomes that involved Vision and his functionality, that I was finally drawing to a close on the biggest quest I’ve ever been faced with in my life.

~~~

“The Neural pathways almost exactly mimic those of a humans learning process,” I gushed in a rushed explanation as my eyes flickered to the half of the room hidden by a sheet, nerves and excitement coursing through my veins as I turned to face the group of people surrounding me, not letting the fact that this was the first time I have seen Pepper since my melt down in the cells dampen my mood, even if I wouldn’t look directly at her.

I was grateful, but we both said things that would forever stick with me.

Nat, Clint, Thor, Sam, Bucky, Steve, Rhodey, Wanda, Pepper, Happy and Strange all sat huddled around the crowded work bench in the dim lab, unused chunks of metal and disregarded wires all left exposed and strewn about. “It has already been given the necessary time to form a basic thought process that will strengthen in the first forty eight hours that it is brought out of hibernation, and as long as we don’t give him direct access to the internet to allow him to download and store all the files for learning purposes, he will be able to follow a thought process that mirrors our own. He will be capable of feeling and expressing emotions, have identical physical behavior and psychological make-up.”

To demonstrate what I was talking about, I turned to the screen that was a hologram next to my head and pointed at the notes and blueprints I had drawn up and explained the thought process that went into it all and what exactly to expect. “He is an artificial intelligence, the first to be born into a body that was made the physically suit his mindset. He will be more superior than Vision was with the curves of being humanlike. He will bleed, be capable of getting hurt and in rare cases if the injuries are extensive, he can die,”

“If he has all the predictability of a human, what sets him off from being considered an actual living, breathing being?” Bruce asked, far too interested in the mechanisms of this all as his hand brushed through his scratchy facial hair. “I realize him being created in a lab is an immediate red flag, but if Wanda were to read him the same as she does someone else, would it be more similar to the way we feel, or will it mirror Vision in that sense?”

“My findings are inconclusive,” i said, offering an apologetic look at Wanda who just shrugged it off, putting on a brave face to hide the heaviness that settled on her shoulders the second Vision was mentioned. “So far, I have designed him to be a fully functional human. Giving him the ability we all have, while even adding the fragility of bones and skin that was grew in the lab. The only thing that set him off, is the neurons in his mind are fired from a constant receptor that is processing his thoughts and helping him read social cues and easily adapt to life as a.. not as a human, per se.”

Bruce nodded, humming thoughtfully as his eyes scanned the words on the screen. “What about if it goes rogue? Is that a possibility?”

“No,” I assured with a firm shake of my head, “as far as adopting its own personality and rebelling against us, it is physically impossible. The structure is based off of Friday’s own programming, but with added securing and networking to ensure it can never transfer on its own and erase Tony. The brain I designed acts as one like ours, only more fragile. The second it is tampered with, it will turn to mush.”

Seemingly pleased with it all, Bruce took a drink of his coffee and nodded, relinquishing his hold over the moment and allowing us to continue.

Then I dove into the process of actually making the body, the hostess for the file of memories I have kept hidden away until I was ready to awaken the AI. Of how I mirrored the genetic makeup of Tony’s human body and created a superficial body that was an exact replica, made to feel like an actual human with a beating heart and all and the only thing that would ever differ, ever call for questioning between distinguishing the real Tony and this Tony, would be the haunting glint in his eyes after living through his own death.

He would remember everything from his previous life, which I explained to them as I flicked through pages and pages of what I’ve been doing while holed up in here. Explaining and answering questions as I went. Tony had been, for _years_ , recording is brain waves and storing them for future use, successfully documenting his entire life that had been transferred to the hibernating AI and the moment he was put in the body, it would take forty eight hours before the memories were finished uploading to his mind and it would take an additional three days after before he woke up,

The solution I had created was a sloshing in the background when I finally turned their gazes to the black sheet. With a dramatic flare, I yanked it down and all their gazes fell to the pod shaped bed, the plastic blacked out and denying them a chance to see into the pod and watch as Tony’s new body was physically being stitched together as they spoke.

“I have him in a bio-bed that is more or less a uterus and the solution I designed for his specific molecule set up is currently working as a superfluid, promoting skin growth and muscle development. It’s speeding up the human process by months,” I explained, completely fucking nervous as I took the grey usb stick out of my pocket and lifted it for everyone to see. I downloaded the AI to it earlier that day and deleted him from the servers, as well as moving all the files and research related to this case, into the secure points where Tony’s video sat. Leaving this as the only physical copy.

I have worked months for this, nearly half a year and despite the knowledge that in just a few days, Tony would be back because of me, I couldn’t shake this… feeling that took root in my bones the second I seen Scott take Morgan to the front room the second Pepper arrived, telling her the grown ups needed a second and he got them both an ice cream to eat while they waited.

I had expectations I knew weren’t going to come true when, and if, Tony came back. My wants, my desires, came second to this little girl and it was selfish of me to feel jealousy at the thought of her being the first thing brought to Tony's attention when he woke up. That’s how it should be. I was just his… just some boy he casually flirted with and who resurrected him from the dead. We were even now, and I owed him nothing..

He owed me nothing.

And I knew the second I started this process, I would have to leave. I was a burden they didn’t need.

A distraction in Tony’s life he wouldn’t need after missing out on nearly an entire year on earth.

“This,” I said, sliding the usb into the port with my fingers hovering over the button, “Is the AI I designed that mimics Tony’s thought process and has already been programmed with Tony’s memories. It is the only copy I have, and that is currently available in the world,”

“Wait!” Pepper interrupted with a high pitched shrill, lunging forward with her hand grasping my wrist and I had to force myself not to recoile back on instinct. “If you bring him back, will he be the same? Or will this change him?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” I admitted in a low breath, a sad smile tugging the corner of my lips down. “After everything he went through, even if it wasn’t his own body, I can’t predict how he will react but as far as if he will be different physically, no. He will be the same Tony, physically, that defeated Thanos. As far as mental scarring goes, I can’t say how he will react.”

“Will he be able to love her?” She asked, suddenly naked and afraid with a bare honesty that startled me as I followed her gaze to just outside the room where Scott had Morgan on his shoulders, twirling her in dizzy circles as she giggled and scream in glee.

“His emotions will not change,” I said, “He will be as capable of loving as he had been when he was alive. This is nothing more than a body for him. He will continue to make memories and he will be unfairly smart, and I promise you the moment he wakes up, she will be the first person he asks for,”

She visibly deflated at that, the reassurance enough to calm down her erratically beating heart as Rhodey placed his hand on her shoulder and guided her back to stand beside him. “It’s alright, he’ll be alright. Pete knows what he’s doing,” Rhodey whispered to her, too quiet for the others to hear but with my spidey hearing, I was able to pick up the smooth lumber of his voice.

And without another word, I was pressing the button and the machine whirred to life, red and gold swirling in flashing lights across the darkened pod and gliding through the black before the splashing water came to a halt and Friday’s voice rasped through the speakers, “Transfer successful.  Forty seven hours, fifty nine minutes and thirty seven seconds until transfer is complete. One hundred and nineteen hours, fifty nine minutes and thirty seconds until complete restoration and estimated awakening time,”

_This was it._

~~~

This was a last effort attempt at bringing Tony back, I reminded them on the third day, keeping myself neutral and calm, resigning to a state of detachment as I read over the brain scans that were projected above the pod, a near constant reassurance that everything was going as planned. That in two days, two measly days, Tony would be back and I would… I would be forgotten again. Like I was before Earth, and after earth, and everywhere in between and beyond. I was never meant to find my person, _and_ have my happily ever after.

I wasn’t designed that way. I was created to love a man I could never call my own, and I was destined to watch as my life from Thanos’ earth came to play in scattered scenes of heartbreak and betrayal before me once again. I was to live it, knowing now I could never outrun the truth.

Only now, I wasn’t bound to a single place. Unable to run because that earth didn’t extend beyond New York unless a specifically designed mission called for it, and even then, if I tried to escape, I would be running from the jet, freedom slipping between my fingers as I grasped for it, nearly capturing it in my hand and when I would blink, I would awaken in my bare room that sat at the base of the tower. Secluded from everyone else because my hearing was a nuisance and they couldn’t be bothered to keep quiet and Tony had, at one point, said if I were to hear him moaning, he would much rather it be in a setting beneficial to us both like he was truly naive to think I didn’t mesmerize the noises, played them back on rewind in my head as my hand explored my body.

He never followed through with his idea of mutual benefits, but I guess I never really expected him to.

This earth, this place, had endless possibilities just at the tip of my fingers. Running off and playing school boy wasn’t an option anymore, even with the scholarship still being offered. I was different from them, and to believe otherwise would just be me depriving myself and kidding myself into believing I was any form of _normal_.

No, I couldn’t do that. Couldn’t go to a pub nightly with a group of friends and laugh, act so carefree, where the only problem they had was their lack of studying for impending finals, not when mine came with the weight of the world and I was still left paying for the consequences of those actions. Those problems.

But that scenario, only wiped out a dozen options. Leaving me with millions and it wasn’t until the fourth day, when I was left alone with the pod that was still slowly building Tony, that I made my decision. I couldn’t be spider-man anymore. Not when I so easily slid into the venom personality that plagued me, my own form of mental illness coming with a mindset that believes torture, punishment and death were all reasonable outcomes to a good nights work.

He had come out at the face of Tony’s death. Imagine what he would turn to if that dark hopelessness unfurled and blossomed into a hope that rippled with the painful reality that the man was back, mine to claim, but couldn’t touch. I did it for years here, for over two decades on Thanos’ earth, and I decided I couldn’t do it for another second. One more second and I would wind up developing into a mindset similar to Venom’s only this time, I wouldn’t come back. I could feel it.

“You don’t have to do this,” Wanda said, her waist length hair tied up in a messy bun as she sat on the small reclining chair in the corner of Tony’s room, taking her turn to sit through the shift of watching him even if everyone else knew I hadn’t budged from my seat next to his bed. “Leave, I mean. You worked so hard to bring him back, Pete, and if history has proven anything, you will be the firs-“

“Don’t,” I pleaded, cutting her off as a knot began to swell in my throat. The decision to leave was hard enough. I didn’t need added persuasions to weigh on my conscience and drag me back into the fantasy land I allowed myself to live in for the past few months, that fueled my process and motivated me to go faster, to do it correctly and efficiently. Leaving no room for mistakes. “Please, don’t. I-he will know who brought him back, and that is enough for me. He has a family that has missed him, and now with me back and him having nothing to worry over, he can go back to them. Raise his daughter. Be the father figure she needs. I-I can’t have him-he can’t focus on me,”

Wanda was the first and only person I told I was leaving. It had just slipped out tonight, with a mixture of ibuprofen and sleep coaxing my tongue to relax and spill my biggest secret. “ _I’m leaving,”_ I’d whispered, so soft and quiet, like anyone else was awake at three in the morning, _“In a few hours, just before he wakes up. I’m going to make sure everything stays on course, then I’m leaving.”_

I knew she would be the only one who would understand me, or at least try. She would speak reasonings, and try to persuade me out of my decisions, but at the end of the day, she would respect what I decided and would stay silent.

She looked at me knowingly, a mixture between similar pain, longing and a fondness seeping into the cracks of her porcelain face. “I told Tony one day he would find someone too good for him,” she said, tugging down the sleeve of her overstuffed sweater, that looked fairly guilty of being one of Visions, “And I guess I just never realized how true that statement would be one day.”

“What do you mean?”

“You, kid. You are too good for Tony and he knew it. He refused to let a second slip by, because he knew at any moment you would realize it too. None of us thought it would come with the price of your death, but it did. He sacrificed himself on the off chance of bringing you back, and you’re sacrificing everything two worlds has told you is destined to happen, for the sake of offering his daughter a chance at having a happy life. Not many people would be able to make that sacrifice, Peter. Especially not one who has been through what you’ve been through,”

I bit the corner of my cheek to stop the sudden burst that came with the bubbly effects of realizing her truth, wasn’t mine. I had a secret, a secret only I knew.

“I didn’t do it because I was some hero,” Tony said, waving a hand at the word ‘hero’ with a scoff, as if he refused to accept the title that was rooted in his very bones. “I did it because everyone has a burden. And mine was my failing body. I was dying anyway, Pete. There was no point in sacrificing one of their lives when I only had months to live. Turns out drugs and heavy drinking does a ton of damage on a body, even a young one. My youth was catching up with me,”

Tony had been in the end stages of Renal Failure, and he had only a few months to live. A truth that he kept to himself, knowing the weight of his impending death that didn’t come with saving the world would place a burden on everyone’s shoulders that they didn’t deserve. He did it to save them from watching him slowly die. And he trusted me to bring him back.

//////Me.//////

“I’m not doing it because I want to be the bigger person,” I said, shaking my head as my hand landed on the plastic enclosing the pod, my fingers leaving smudges as they drug down and I imagined my fingers were running over the unscarred skin on Tony’s abdomen. “I’m doing this because I’m weak. Because I don’t want to slip back into Venom’s mindset and I know staying here, watching the life I just made possible blossom into a family, will only further weaken my will power and I’ll end up snapping and this time won’t be as easy. Locking me in a cage and bringing Pepper in to play good cop, bad cop, followed by a therapy session won’t work.”

I shook my head sadly, defeated as my shoulders sagged. “No, this time, I’ll end up egging Hulk on until he has enough and smashes me. Or I’ll wind up killing myself, who knows?”

“Do you honestly think you aren’t part of this family?” Wanda asked, dismissing the rest of what I said with a cringe as she leaned forward in her seat, staring at me intently, reading my face.

I flinched away. “I was made an Avenger in a spaceship, on my way to my death, which also happened that same day. I think that hardly counts as being anointed any sort of power. Not to mention I haven’t exactly been a team player so no, I don’t feel as if I belong in this family, or any family. I’m too damaged.”

“Oh, god,” she said with a snort, rolling her eyes in fond annoyance. “You sound exactly like Tony. He claimed the same thing when someone called us a family. He said a bunch of adults running around in spandex with guns and dangerous toys that go boom, hardly counts as a family. Apparently, in his book, emotionally suppressed and stunted people simply fit together so perfectly because we all knew what it was like not to belong. What he didn’t account for was finding himself ////belonging///// amongst us,”

“As for when or how you were made an avenger, that doesn’t matter. You were one long before Tony gifted you with a title, and it hurts to think you haven’t considered me a family member even when I have always considered you as a little brother,”

She stood and walked across the room, taking my hand off of the pod in favor of lacing our fingers together as she crouched before me, placed my hand on her heart while her other hand steadied herself on my shoulder. “We aren’t a modern family. We are stronger. We protect our kind fiercely, and love in ways humans are emotionally incapable of. We know the dangers that lurk out there in the shadows, and rather than running, we all link hands together and charge into what very well may be our last fight. We may not have family dinners, and go to movies together or even vacation, but that is not what makes us family.”

“Our undying devotion does. And kid, you have proved more than once where your devotion lies. Damaged or not, you’re alright in my book.” That was Clint, speaking from his place awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot in the door, unsure of what he’d said as his shoulders hunched forward in a mechanism of making himself smaller.

Wanda didn’t pull away. She just smiled, and pressed my hand harder into her chest so I could feel the steady thrum of her heartbeat against the tip of my fingers. “Exactly,” she agrees, “And know, as long as this heart beats, you will always have one person in your corner. We are ////family////, and think what you will of that title, but that means /////nobody//// gets left behind. Not even if some planet made by the universe's most fucked up soul says otherwise. You are loved, Peter, and that man lying in that bed is awaiting for you to wake him up,”

He was /////waiting./-//

She didn’t say another thing, mistaking my silence for shock rather than a muteness that fell over me due to the immovable lump that had taken up refuge in my throat and sent burning pulses to the back of my eyes and had this awful pressure building behind my nose.

Both her and Clint left the room, the later nodding once in my direction, like he understood that I was on the verge of falling apart all over again and he was giving me ///permission./////

I always knew the avengers were a special form of a family, where the bonds were irreversible even if events did lead to certain situations becoming tense but the truth was, no matter what or who came along, they always had one another's back. Always fought until fighting was no longer an option, and it was about time I accepted that I could belong to this family. To these people. Erasing the trauma I’ve been put through, the insecurities that came with my gangly body that made me coltish in my movements even after the spider bite enhanced my reflexes. Bulked out the lanky limbs.

I wasn’t a damaged teen anymore who was haunted by his uncle's death. My rapidly aging body proved that as day by day, away melted my childish features and my limbs grew, my biceps extending and bulging beneath my shirt as months made up for the years I was absent. Removing traces of who I had once been and as I stood on numb legs and made my way to the en-suite bathroom in the room we had moved in to after beginning the process of bringing Tony back, i didn’t recognize the wide eyed man who stared back at me from the mirror. A reflection of who I was now and not who I had been.

The absence of self care was evident in the beard now stubbles across my cheeks, my jaw hardened now and tense as it clenched. My eyes weren’t as naive and round, portraying my innocence with one glance. My hair was shabbier than it’s ever been, still shorter but now brushing my ears in overlapping waves of brown and a startled tear streaked down my cheek.

This, ///me////, wasn’t what I looked like on the other planet. Where there was meat and muscles now, a defined six pack clenching beneath my shirt as my body tensed and untensed in timed cycles as memories coursed through my mind, there had been the hollowed, sunken in gut on that planet. RIbs a piano board and with the right fingers tapping away at the keys, a haunting melody could be heard. Where a soft yet hard self assurance was running laps around my pupils in dizzy circles, had once been a look of emptiness, resignment, void of anything but a darkness that would blink back..

I was taller and bulkier in stature, which Steve had pointed out one day when I stood nearly as tall as him, the swell of his shoulders a tad broader than mine but it was still noticeable that in a few months, I had done quite a bit of catching up. It seemed like when my body wasn’t being pumped full of alcohol, it was catching up with earth and being allowed an opportunity to grow and heal.

The point I realized as I looked in the mirror, however, was if I didn’t _look_ the same, maybe I didn’t have to be the same? Follow the same path of self destruction. I could change. Turn myself inside out and scrub away all the ugly parts. Detach myself from Tony and use as much bleach as I could as I scrubbed my mind clean of any and all inappropriate thoughts of him, memories of his moans, of his mindless flirting and how incredibly good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, our bodies aligned with our hearts beating in complete sync one would almost mistake us for a single person.

I could be his _friend_. Offer him emotional support as he too caught up with earth, with his family. I could- I _will_ be good.

If I couldn’t have Tony in the way I wanted, maybe I could accept that I have him in _some way._ Because, I decided, something was better than nothing.

~~~

It was decided. I’m staying.

~~~

“Be careful , Bruce. Who knows what Spidey will do if you slip and nick him,” Sam said with a playful glint in his eyes as he popped a grape in his mouth, sat cross legged on the counter with a large white bowl of fruit sat between his legs.

I was sitting anxiously on a chair placed in the middle of the dining room, the tiled floor chilly beneath my toes and the air in the room breezy as gusts pulsed over my sleeveless arms and wafted through the gap at the neck of my white, loose fitting tank top. In truth, it was Tony’s. One I had snuck from his things weeks ago to wear while working in the lab, and while I was arguably taller than him now, and stronger, he was _much_ bulkier, even in the chest region, so it was looser fitting there.

I had on a thin pair of shorts that hugged my thighs and slid up the second I sat down, and it was pointless to tug at them every seconds to attempt to pull them down, yet I still did it. The only tic I could focus on that kept my barreling nerves to a minimum. “Shut it,” Bruce croaked with a shaking hand lifting an accusing finger at Sam, “Hulk is already unsteady enough around spider-boy, and this is his test. If we can get within killing distance of him, with a sharp object in our hand, and he doesn’t kill us, then, well, Hulk has his best friend back. So please, for the love of _god_ , shut up,”

It was amusing how on edge Bruce was, but also a little nerve wrecking. The green tint to his skin showing just how close to the surface hulk really was.

“He’ll do fine,” I offered in a shaky voice, not at all confident with my own attempt at reassuring everyone as Bruce took a step behind me and cautiously ran his fingers through my damp hair. “Just- shut up and let me breath. We’ll be good,”

I needed a haircut, they decided, and seeing as I refused to leave the tower, and the second anyone attempted to approach me with sharp objects that I _wasn't_ familiar or comfortable with, and I attacked them, Bruce was the next best thing. He cut his own hair, because unsurprisingly enough, Hulk related. He didn’t allow _anyone_ but Bruce cut his hair.

So that is what led to the most tense, anxiety fueled hour of my life. It was the morning of the estimated day that Tony was due to wake up, and to say everyone was on edge would be an understatement. This experiment was not a guaranteed fix. There was still the chance of it failing, of the AI not taking root in the superficial body made for it, or of Tony simply never waking up because his brain waves suddenly collapsed and with the unsureness of the technology I used, with the unfamiliarity, I couldn’t predict it or reverse it. It was all left to the fates at this point, the life nothing more than a number on the roll of their dice.

Pepper and Morgan were going to be stopping by in a few hours, nearing noon since that was the most up to date estimate Friday could offer on when the process would be complete. We have still yet to talk after our little dance in the cells, yet there was no awkwardness. Just a flimsy air of understanding.

The rest of the avengers were walking around aimlessly through the compound, smartly enough avoiding the kitchen/dining room after Steve made the mistake of walking in and Hulk had surged forward with a roar, his head breaking through the surface and contorting Banners familiar features into the ones of the green giant as he yelled, “NO! HULK DOESN’T LIKE PRETTY BOY!” He’d shouted, chucking an apple at Steve who had, in an air of shock, allowed it to hit his gut before he scrambled out of the room and we could all hear his retreating footsteps running in the opposite direction.

“Hulk doesn’t like Steve,” Banner had explained in pants once he was once again in control, shaking fingers steadying themselves in my hair as I heard the familiar snip of scissors followed by the chuck of hair gliding down my arm. “He thinks Steve is in love with Nat, and won’t accept any other explanation even if he has witnessed the way Bucky and Steve correspond together. He feels threatened by the.. by the _pretty_ boy,”

“Why doesn’t he feel threatened by me?” Sam implored, now hanging lazily off a stool with a glass of water balanced precariously on his stomach. He was laid across three of the stainless steel stools, with the black cushions hugging three direct points of his body; his upper back, butt and legs. “Am I not a pretty boy?”

I didn’t ask why he was even in here, or why he was allowed, but I also realized I didn’t exactly hate his company.

“Because,” Bruce said with a shrug, the movement nudging my head forward which he quickly corrected with a barked, ‘don’t move’ like it had been _my_ hand pushing my own head forward. “You don’t threaten him, or make advances on Nat. Physical appearance out of the picture,”

“I co-“ Sam began to see, but at the glint passing through Bruce’s eyes he seemed to realize pushing wasn’t the best option and he cut himself off. “I’m glad I’m one the big guys good side,” he said instead, which earned him a satisfied, ‘hmph,’ from Bruce.

A few minutes passed in silence, me absently brushing off my shoulders and legs every few seconds to get rid of the prickly hair. “Do you think he’ll be the same?” I suddenly asked out of nowhere, my insecurity seeping into the words that I have kept hidden since starting this entire experiment. The fear I kept hidden for the sake of being the strong point for all the rest of them.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked. “Peter, I went over everything with you. Your work is flawless. Tony will be just as he was before he died,”

“Yeah,” Sam added a belated second later, grunting as he moved to sit solely on the middle stool that he swiveled around to face us. “Look, man, I don’t know shit about that science bullshit but the way you explained it doesn’t leave much room for second guessing. And if Tony trusted you, then you need to start trusting yourself.”

“Stop worrying about it, Peter. You’re projecting anxiety into a day that should just be about life. You gave him back his life. Accept you are borderline genius and go get showered so I can help you pick out an outfit,” Nat interjected, raising her eyebrows in a suggestive manner before she wiggled them.

We all noticed the moment Bruce visibly sagged at the sound of Nat’s voice, and how the green tint in his cheeks was replaced by a red, but we didn’t say anything.

Something that seems to be common around here; not addressing emotions unless it was in a situation where life and death were the only possible outcomes left.

So I did as I was instructed, and I left to shower. Scrubbing away what felt like years of dirt, and grim, and anxiety and insecurities. Washing away the feeling of never being enough, and letting my own self fulfillment fill the throbbing void. _I am enough._ I chanted to myself as I got dressed in an outfit Nat had no say over. _Tony will be enough._

_His friendship will be enough._

_Having his presence next to me would be enough._

I chanted those throughout the rest of the day, leaving little room for thoughts or doubts or unsureness to seep into my mind and ruin what was already quickly becoming a _good_ day.

I chanted it as I set next to Tony’s best, directly next to the pod so that, selfishly, I would be the first person he seen but as the seconds ticked closer to noon, and Pepper and Morgan arrived, I was quickly moving to give them direct access to the bed and I instead moved to hide in the back of the room. Letting Friday take over as she shut off the pod at exactly noon and the black tinted enclosure began to lift.

Then the reassuring chants turned to, _you’re not enough. You’re never enough. You fucked up somehow,_ as I was pacing the length of the back of the room, running worn out lines in the carpet because I couldn’t keep from dragging to my feet.

It was all fun and games, anticipating this moment but now it was finally happening and I could hear the hissing as the pressurized air escaped the upper half of the pod, the lower half remaining closed with the solution taking a darker tint to hide his lower extremities.

“Vitals are normal and he is stable. Brain function is stable. Would you like me to revoke the additional hibernation protocol and awaken Mr. Stark?” Friday asked, addressing me and I knew she was addressing me, seeking answers from me because technically I still was her boss but I didn’t know how to answer.

_What to answer._

But it seemed like my heart didn’t care what kind of crisis my brain was going through because I heard myself mutter, without realizing I was speaking, “Yes. Remove all access blocks from his servers and give him complete functionality,”

I froze as soon as I realized what I’d said, ready to retract the permission and request she give him a few more days in incubation, but the loud sound of someone gasping for a large lungful of air was signal enough that it was _too late._

I felt weak, far too emotional as I heard the first ragged breath turn into a pattern of unstable breathing, the artificial lungs working to pump in the air that wasn’t nearly as sterile as the one I’d been feeding it for the past few months. I could hear the commotion of people erupting around me, all glee filled that the man was even breathing but somehow, for some reason, I couldn't hear _them_. I was forcing myself to strain beyond the loud bustle of their celebrations, past the relieved sobbing of Pepper who was clutching her daughter to her chest, and even past the other sobs that littered the room, all coming from one avenger and then another; and was focused on the _breathing_.

Still the same, i noted with weak knees. Still the same Tony but I couldn't look. Couldn’t walk forward and peak at the body that I’d created inch by inch, because now it was all put together in its full form and it was _tony_. It was so much more now than a couple of pieces that needed to be put together to complete the puzzle. Pieces I held no emotional connection to. But now it was…

Tony was…

He was alive.

“Pepper?” Was the groggy groan that had the room falling silent, the rasp from the voice being unused evident in the scratchy, vibrating chords of his breathless voice, yet it was still undeniably her _name_. And again, as if to answer the silent question now hovering over our heads, focused in the eyes all trained on me who stood frozen in the back of the room, the voice asked again, “Pepper?”

Clear as day, leaving no room for second guessing or unsureness, because her name was like a beckoning to his soul and when she leaned forward, lacing their fingers together, it looked as it it had been filled and put back together. Rekindling a love that had been lost, forgotten, laid dormant in his quest of being a hero.

A family was coming together once again, and I was silly to think I ever had a place here.

I didn’t risk a moment's hesitation, didn’t even allow my stumbling feet to draw me to a halt as I rushed to the door of the room and broke out into the brightly lit hallway, my chest heaving with my pulse picking up speed as I ran down the empty corridor and towards the flight of stairs that would take me to the ceiling.

I was naive enough to believe _I_ would be the first person he called out for. Like all those months I spent putting him together, he had been able to hear me. That the nights he spent lying in that bio-bed, and I was whispering to him all my secrets and plans for the future and how much I _loved_ him, he had been present for and I was holding him to unrealistically high standards that would never, ever be fulfilled.

I was his _mentee_ , and to allow myself to believe otherwise was just pure ignorance.

I stumbled my way across the roof in hurried footsteps and collapsed at the edge, leaning over with my legs dangling off as I laid back and greedily gulped in the air; unsure if I was actually breathing or the rise and fall from my chest was from how hard my heart was beating.

I had given him life, more or less. Created what _he_ wanted me to and of _course_ i let it all go to my head. The memories, receiving Friday as a “gift,” the fact that I was entrusted with the video speaking his admittance and truth. That wasn’t pepper, yet he had called her out the second he was granted motion and free will to think as he will.

Not _me_. But the woman he’d spent a better part of his life with, a woman who had become his fiancé and mother of his child all within the span of me being here, and me being gone. Choosing to hold on to the idea that earth still had a place for me was well.. at this point, it was as useless as breathing was.

“Peter?” Someone asked, hesitant in their steps as they walked towards me. “I know you want to be alone right now, but he’s asking for you,” Wanda said, holding her hands up to signify she came in peace as she set cross legged next to my head, her fingers carding through my freshly cut hair without a second thought and I let her.

Nobody willingly touched me, anyway.

“I can’t,” I cracked, the impending panic attack that had been triggered by a fucking _name_ still hovering very closely beneath the surface. “He-he doesn’t need me. I told you this. I should have left. Tell him I’m already gone, please? I can’t.”

Nat tsked me, saddened by my words yet somehow unfazed with them as she continued the assault on my hair. “Peter, he called out for the woman who has been a part of his life for nearly three decades. He didn’t do it to hurt you. He did it because her face rang familiarity and he was trying to adjust.”

“How do you do it?” I asked, tipping my head back to stare up at her as I allowed her touch to calm me. “Live without… without…”

“It’s been five years, Peter.You can say his name,” Nat said with a soft, sad smile. “After Vision died, I went rogue and apparently did some questionable things that put me at the top of Steve’s watchlist for potentially catastrophic danger. Like Tony, and you, I binged. But mine more more along the lines of… fighting. My high was the rush I got after every time I won, knowing deaths teeth had drug across my skin.”

She shivered at the memory, her hand pausing in my hair for a second before she gave a slight tug and switched to rolling strands around her finger. “I was like that for nearly two years before Steve finally forced me to come back, to come home. Him and Tony hosted an intervention, I got drunk, and somehow or another they put a collar on my that dampened my powers and locked me in a cell, much like you. After some time, I began to accept his death and I had to realize the world Keeps turning without him. That life continues to march on and as much as that hurt me, as much as I hated living without the man that quickly became my other half, I had to realize I couldn’t live with his death plaguing my everyday life. I had to live for _him_. And in some silly way, I can always feel him. He’s here, with me, at all times. And Pete, I love it. I love feeling his _love_ ,”

 _I do too,_ I added in a silent voice, _i love feeling Tony’s love but I’m selfish and I need more._

“But your love isn’t gone,” he said quickly, sniffing as she subtly wiped away the tears that collected in her eyes but pure stubbornness kept them from falling. “He’s inside, waiting for you. Don’t let this be the second time you forfeit your happiness just because Tony called out another woman’s name,”

She stood abruptly after that, not offering me a hand or a smile in department. Just with her words and heavy ultimatums weighing on my chest. “Oh, and Pete?” She said as she reached the door. “He asked for you the second after he realized where he was,”

And as much as I wanted to go inside, I couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. They needed time.

_I needed time._

And it seems as if I was always running out of it, because a second later the door burst open and out walked Tony, wrapped in a white cotton robe with his wobbling legs still glistening from the solution, with Rhodey and Steve holding on to either arm. “You!” He growled, pure determination feeding into his scowl as he locked his eyes on me. “When a man who just woke up from his literal death, asks for the person who made it possible, I expect for said person to rush to their bed side and accept all the compliments I was prepared to shower them with, knowing it would skyrocket their already ridiculously high ego. It’s only proper Avenger behavior,” he said, and that grin….

That _grin_ said it all.

 

 


	4. So was it really worth it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realize I left a few things unsaid in this fic and didn’t include a few major scenes, but I did that intentionally. This fic will be uploaded in installments, a series. With 2-3 fics, all focusing around different points in their life’s. This one was Tony’s death and his return, the second will be their lives as they come together and where they proceed with their relationship and all that Jazz (with an obvious plot), and the third will be… well, I guess we’ll just have to see. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this! I wrote it in about two weeks time, and could not have loved it more! It was truly therapeutic. With that said, I don’t know when the next work will be uploaded by hopefully it will be soon. ❤️ thank you to those of you who have read, commented and left kudos. I appreciate it.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> Xx.

_Tony was back._ **  
**

_That_ was the very reason my chest inflated with each and every breath I took, why I was currently sat cross legged in the middle of a crowded living room, enough distance between me and him to be appropriate yet from my place on the opposite side of the table from him, I could still watch him from the corner of my eye. Watch as he shifted every few seconds, Morgan curled up at his side with Pepper saddled right next to her and the sight, while physically suffocating to bare witness to, was also… refreshing. **  
**

To know, after so much heartbreak, running around and denial, chaos and death, a happily ever after was still possible. Even if it wasn’t my _own._ **  
**

It has been a week since he woke up, and although he refused to allow me out of his line of sight, he refused to actually talk to me; to look at me when we were alone and I didn’t know _why._ That first day on the roof, when I had ran out of his room because I allowed my emotions to get the better of me, he had looked at me like I was the sun just now rising after he’d spent years drowning in the darkness. **  
**

He refuses to touch me, and that was expected. Accepted, even. Tony touched me before I became Thanos’ little play toy. Why would he now? Why would he after that monsters claws had been sunk so far into my flesh that anything he did, anything he said, that echoed through the lips of Tony (the character he created) was a command my body listened to without my permission. I was once Thanos’ property, because I had given myself to _his_ Tony. **  
**

And the man knew that. He _had_ to. **  
**

Nobody talked about my breakdown after Tony’s death, and I wasn’t even sure if Tony was aware of the alternate personality I had adopted during said breakdown, but I knew he _knew_ how fucking broken I had been. He said it in his video, called me out months in advance and now he was acting like the words uttered, past and present and from other fucking planets, meant nothing. **  
**

We were getting back the time we lost and now was when we should take advantage of it but with a glance over my shoulder at the happy trio, a picture perfect family, I realized my hopes and wants were going to diminish into a pile of ash by the weeks end. Wanda had been wrong, Nat and Thor and even Pepper. Tony wasn’t _mine._ Clint was the only one who was willing to call me out on my bullshit and I had been unwilling to accept it then but now, it seemed like it was the only truth that didn’t make my heart run laps in my chest but instead stilled it all together with the promise of stopping completely one day and removing any and all pain. **  
**

I focused back on the TV screen when Pepper caught me staring, watching her family like a hawk who was preparing to dive in and steal all she loved to claim as my own. If she looked at me with sympathy, I didn’t see it. If she was angry, I certainly didn’t care. Her eyes weren’t the ones I wanted to look at me, the ones I _needed._ **  
**

Uncaring of the scene flashing across the large, flat screen tv that was pretty much the entire length of one wall, I stood and slowly made my way around Steve and Bucky, who were huddled together on the floor, side stepped Nat who was sitting on the arm of the overstuffed chair that Bruce was sitting in, and made my way towards the kitchen. **  
**

I could feel his gaze, hot and steady on my back as I opened the fridge and rummaged for a second, having no idea what I was actually looking for but I couldn't turn around. I couldn’t face him, _knowing_ he was staring because the second I did, the second I acknowledged it, the stare was gone, the absent weight leaving me floating like a balloon in the kitchen as all the warmth drained from my body and I was once again flooded with the cold that had taken root in my bones. **  
**

A chill nothing seemed to touch. **  
**

Everyone was aware of Tony’s return, or at least everyone that was worthwhile; anyone who was of importance. Tony was planning on going public with his miraculous return from the dead by the end of the month, but for now, he was resting and playing catch up. Allowing his glitching mind to fill the holes that may have lapped in the process of downloading the memories; the holes that were created in his absence. **  
**

And said resting and relaxation, per Bruce’s strict order, meant that every night somehow turned into some weird form of family night. Whether that meant eating meals together, watching movies or, and this was Thor’s request for tomorrow's activity, board games. (He just wanted to see and understand what the humans fatuation with tiny plastic pieces and a slice of colorful cardboard was about.) **  
**

Despite my insistence on my presence not being necessary, they all refused to allow me to stay holed up in my room, all day everyday, so I took to either sitting on the roof alone, in the kitchen without the slightest idea why I was just staring at the empty counters for hours, or the living room where Morgan was always sitting either watching tv or playing with her toys. **  
**

I never talked to the little girl. I couldn’t. **  
**

That’s another thing. Her and Pepper have been a constant presence in the tower since Tony’s return. It seemed as if they forgot they had their own home or maybe I was reading the entire situation incorrectly and the family that I saw when I looked at them, was an actual reality. Maybe they were back together, and that would explain where they both disappeared to every night. **  
**

That thought had my stomach dropping, soaring with no intent or destination to land, and my appetite vanished. Stilling in the fridge for a second, I let my hand brush over the numerous food items before I finally just grabbed a water bottle and closed the stainless steel door, resting my head against it for a second with the water bottle pressed against the side of my cheek as I exhaled my shaky breath. **  
**

Breathing has become harder to do whenever I knew he was staring. **  
**

I could still feel his eyes on me as I slowly turned around, and even though I wanted to march back into that living room and demand he looked at me, that he acknowledged me and _touched_ me, I didn’t. I lifted my unsure gaze to meet his, and he looked tired; so much so that he allowed us to maintain eye contact for a second, an entire conversation passing in the span that allowed for no more than a breath to pass between us. **  
**

 _You okay?_ His tired eyes asked, the raise in his eyebrows as his eyes flickered to the water bottle still pressed against my cheek. **  
**

I gave a silent shrug. _I will be._ **  
**

He didn’t seem to like that answer, because he gave a soft huff as he fingers ran through Morgan’s hair and he motioned his head towards where I had been sitting before. _Sit down,_ his eyes commanded, soft, _stay._ **  
**

I shook my head, lifted my water bottle, and gestured towards the stairs that led to the private floor that was littered with all of our rooms before I gave a brisk nod and broke eye contact with a reluctance that very nearly looked back immediately to see if he was still watching as I made my way up the stairs and into my room, closing it as softly as I could so as to not disturb the movie still playing downstairs. **  
**

My room was larger than necessary, but bare. I had a dresser that held the few clothing that I had, pajamas and underwear and such, and a walk in closet that barely had one side filled with every shirt and pair of pants I owned; and a single queen size bed sat pressed against the main wall, smack dab in the middle with both sides opened. The decor was absent, the walls white and the bedding a tan color of sheets tangled with the white comforter. Keeping materialistic things seemed like such a stupid thing to do now, considering that in a blink, everything could disappear and where would that wall of pictures get you then? What could they possibly do to save you? **  
**

What the fuck would love do if not save you? Because I was getting tired of carrying around this burden of emotions, an unrequited love that would continue to burn and sear at my chest and heart if i didn’t just let it all out, give in to it and say ‘fuck it’ and tell Tony how I felt knowing he would reject me. **  
**

The rejectment would at least help me move past it, wouldn’t it? Forget what I couldn’t forget before because there wasn’t a physical person there to extinguish the feelings, the want. Now Tony could be that hose and douse my fire and put us both out of misery so we could go back to being.. just being.. **  
**

Mentor and mentee. **  
**

~~~ **  
**

What felt like minutes later but a glance at my alarm clock that set on my dresser confirmed it had been well over an hour, a knock was heard on my door. The raking of knuckles immediately having me pop up into a sitting position as my muscles clenched deliciously in anticipation. It was him. I knew it was. **  
**

“Come in!” I yelled out, suddenly giddy with the idea that Tony had chased after me when that was all that I wanted. But my entire body deflated the second Sam opened the door and peeked his head in. **  
**

“Dinner’s here. Bruce said if you don’t come down in two minutes, he’ll let hulk lose to drag your ass down,” and with that, he was closing the door. **  
**

That was another plus to my entire venom situation. While studying my behavioral patterns and physical resistance to let Venom take over, Bruce had developed his own sort of strained barrier between him and hulk and now, it seemed, he could call upon the monster at any given second, and push him back down within a blink of an eye. He had complete and utter control. **  
**

With a dejected sigh, I got changed into whatever I pulled from my dresser that could be considered as my pajamas and walked down the stairs, my stomach pulling me in the direction of the aroma of food. **  
**

They were all sitting at the table, Tony at the head with Pepper on his left and Morgan sat right next to her, with Nat and Bruce sandwiched on that side with Steve set directly across from Tony at the other end with Bucky on his right, followed by Sam and Wanda, leaving one seat for me that was between Wanda and… Tony. **  
**

I couldn’t do this. **  
**

Nobody seemed to have noticed my presence, and I was hoping to remain that way as I took a careful step back only for Bruce’s eyes to snap up and meet mine. “Peter!” He said, smiling, oblivious to my forced smile that clearly scream discomfort. “Come, sit down. Wanda chose chinese for dinner.” **  
**

At his call out, everyone’s eyes turned to look at me and I noticed the way Tony’s eyes widened as they glanced over my shirt and it was only then that I looked down and noticed I was wearing his AC/DC that had become my only anchor while I was venom, the only thing that kept me from slipping completely and i must have washed it and put it in the pajama drawer. **  
**

I crossed my arms over my chest in an attempt to hide the logo as I shuffled across the floor, taking the long way around the table which meant I didn’t have to walk by Tony, and I quietly slid into my seat, angling myself closer to Nat to save Tony from any discomfort I may have caused by being this close while wearing his shit I technically stole while he was dead. I stole quite a bit of his clothing, but he didn’t need to know that. **  
**

“Hey,” Pepper said, eyes catching on the shirt as she pointed a single chopstick at it. “Isn’t that the shirt you were looking for last night?” _So she was with him last night?_ **  
**

 _Oh god._ Red flooded my cheeks, but luckily Tony was either being extremely generous tonight or he simply wasn’t in the mood to deal with the questions that were bound to follow, because he quickly said, in a sharp voice that left little room for argument, “No, it isn’t. Mine was a darker black. Now, can you hand me the rice and drop it?” **  
**

He wouldn’t even look at me. **  
**

Wanda took pity on me and ended up dishing me up a plate that had a little bit of everything piled on it, giving me a variety of choices that I just spent the night poking at, eating very little but enough to keep someone from prying into my eating habits, or lack thereof. And despite every fucking attempt Tony made, making it clear I wasn’t a topic he wanted to discuss during dinner, somehow the conversation always got turned to me. **  
**

 _“Pete, did you tell Tony about how the Bio-bed is more that just an incubation chamber and if he was to get hurt, it would regenerate cell growth like your own mutation does and would heal him within hours?”_ That was Bruce, which Tony deflected the questions, not even giving me a chance to answer it, by asking Dr. Danner what he was currently working on. **  
**

 _“Pete, have you decided if you’re going to accept the scholarship to MIT?”_ Nat, who smirked at my glare and was egging me into answering with every flick of her eyebrows upwards, but Tony still wasn’t having any of it and asked Nat if she knew where Thor, Clint and Rhodey disappeared off to. **  
**

Which, they were on a mission. One that was simple enough it didn’t call for all the avengers, just a few to deal with the Chitauri that had been reported somewhere in Europe, where they had been for days and tomorrow was when they were returning. They all knew. Tony knew, he just simply didn’t want to talk about me or to me, clearly.

It went on like that for a while, to the point that I didn’t even bother preparing myself to answer to the questions directed at me and I just focused on the single grain of rice I was attempting to pick up with my chopsticks, and had been for the past ten minutes. **  
**

I knew he was still unsure of where we stood, but was cutting me out of the entire conversation really that necessary? What was even the point of me being here, sitting next to _him?_ Where I could feel the heat rolling off of him in waves of comfort, drawing my tense muscles into a relaxed jelly state as my elbow came to rest on the table and I laid my head in my palm. **  
**

Which this _definitely_ wasn’t helping me “move on,” **  
**

Without another word, I abruptly stood, intending on walking back to my room until Wanda grabbed my hand and pulled me back down, Pepper raising her eyebrows in questioning before she shrugged it off. **  
**

“So, Peter,” she began, and this was the first time she was addressing me, or even speaking to me, since that night in the cells that _didn’t_ directly involve Tony.. “Are you ready to return to the line of duty? They have a simple routine mission scheduled for next week and I think it will be good for you to put back on the suit and get back out there.” **  
**

My eyes flickered to Tony for a second, to see if he was going to cut me off, to read his expression and see how he felt about me being on a mission but he was staring at me, too, like he was expecting a question when, the entire night, he’d stole my voice. **  
**

“I, ugh, I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway,” I mumbled, shifting in my seat, my skin crawling with multiple gazes, most understanding but one was curious. **  
**

“Oh?” Pepper implored. “And why is that?” **  
**

“He’s not ready,” Nat cut in, arching a brow. “If he says he’s not ready, then let’s leave it at that.” **  
**

Pepper raised her hands, eyes surprised. “Believe me, I wasn’t pressing him into doing anything he doesn’t want to do. I was asking if it’s because he’s not mentally prepared, or if Venom is still a threat we should be concerned about.” **  
**

I scoffed, my tongue poking the inside of my cheek as I gazed at her from beneath my eyelashes. She wasn’t asking to be a bitch, or bringing up this conversation just to spite me, she was doing it to force me to talk _knowing_ Tony wouldn’t dare stop her. **  
**

 _If he won’t let you talk,_ the lines in between her words said, _then I’ll make you._ **  
**

“Venom?” Tony asked, obviously the only one not clued into the entirety of the conversation. “Who’s he?” **  
**

“Nobody told him?” Bruce asked, the sound of his chopsticks smacking together in a wooden hug echoing in the space around us that was suddenly weighed down with a heavy silence. **  
**

“Told me what?” **  
**

“In your absence,” Bruce began, seeing as nobody else was going to, “Peter’s mental health took a drastic decline and he reprogrammed his.. er, his _powers,_ and reverted into a personality that was the very core of his pain, the dark, twisted pain. He went on a vigilante strike, drank himself into oblivion and virtually shut us all out in the most painful ways he could, and at one point, he even threw a desk at hulk,” he shrugged like it was no big thing, like the green giant hadn’t taken literal offense to the actions and made me sit down and have an hour long talking session with him that was mostly just hulk yelling at, and berating me before I had to promise I would never do it again. **  
**

I cringed at the rundown of everything that had happened, of how bad it sounded, _looked,_ from an outsider's perspective. **  
**

“And he’s not put on the suit since the day you died,” Steve offered, as helpful as ever, like that small tidbit of information was important and would lead to multiple life’s being saved. It wouldn’t, but you would be damn mistaken if you could see the way Bucky was beaming up at him with pride. **  
**

My stomach rolled. **  
**

Everything that’s been kept hidden, shoved into the dark and forgotten, dismissed because it wasn’t important, was not being drug to the light and I was being called out on the literal worst thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t have much memories of what happened while I was venom. I could remember the numbness that took over whenever he did, but beyond that, it was shattered images and the sense of dread. **  
**

The room fell silent, save for the heavy, shaky breaths that fell from my lips in billowing clouds of embarrassment and pain. “It wasn’t that bad,” I argued weakly, not daring to look at Tony because I was afraid what I might see. Rather it be complete and utter disappointment, or the lack of any reaction. **  
**

“Is now the time to mention his time in the Realm of souls was far more extensive than that of mine?” Bucky added, hand raised like he was waiting for his teacher to call on him and with the mention of.. that _place,_ came a tsunami of emotions that had me jumping to my feet and my chair was knocked over in my hasty retreat from the conversation. **  
**

“Don’t,” I snapped, backing towards a wall with one hand raised, “you know _nothing_ of what happened in that place. Don’t bring it up so casually, like it’s just an added topping to a cake you’re baking. That is _mine_ to talk about. Don’t you _dare_ try to take that from me.” **  
**

And I ran before anyone could stop me, before I could allow those memories to drag me back into a place that has been vacant in my life since learning of Tony’s impending arrival, the place I refused to acknowledge because if I didn’t, then I didn’t have to believe it was _real._ **  
**

“Peter!” I heard someone call after me, the voice too far away and distorted to my ringing ears that I couldn’t distinguish who it belonged to; not that it would matter. **  
**

Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Nothing could ever be the _same._ **  
**

~~~ **  
**

Tony found me despite my best effort at hiding, always playing the cat well in the hunt for the mouse and I hated it. Hated that after all this time, and all that’s changed, I was still so predictable enough that he found me without truly having to look. **  
**

Seen me with eyes that never offered more than a glance, even as he sat down on the couch, opposite of me, and heaved a sigh that sounded awfully worn out and tired for someone who was a little more than a week old. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he said, “but you will have to one day. You can’t just keep it bottled up, Pete. I know from experience that that shit will just eat you alive,” **  
**

I was curled up in an impossibly tight ball on the couch, the tears long dry by now but they left my cheeks sticky and tight, like each blink of my sand rubbed eyes was tugging at every muscle in my face. I snorted pitifully as I drug my nose across the back of my hand, refusing to look at him. Just offering him the same generosity as he gave me. **  
**

“It’s just another secret, isn’t it?” I asked, and I hated how scratchy my voice was, how it cracked and broke with effort. “And we both know that I’m good at keeping secrets, don’t we?” **  
**

That single statement held so many truths in it that it made me dizzy to even think about _what_ secret I was referring to. But somehow, in the echoing void shouting out all my secrets, one lunged up my throat and threatened to punch its way between my teeth if only to be heard. **  
**

I heard Tony give a soft gasp, barely even audible, but still there. Still a slight hitch in his breathing, a shift in his posture as he slouched forward and let his head drop in his hands. “Pete,” And he sounded pleading; broken, my very name calling for a storm to rise in giant waves of sand in the desert, drying both of our throats with the imaginary dust surrounding us as we inhaled in sync. “Don’t do this.” **  
**

“Do what?” I asked, shifting to _finally_ face him. “Do _What?_ What _can_ I do? For someone who doesn’t care, you seem to have a lot to say about my life and the way I choose to live it,” and apparently, my brain and heart were corresponding in a way they never have as my tongue sharpened and my heart didn’t bleed at the words; begging to take them back so I could keep this genius in oblivion for just a little longer. **  
**

“You want to do this now?” Tony asked, and he was turning to face me with this… _look_ in his eye. One that scream a carnal desire that was now just popping to the surface, denial and self control a thin string barely holding it all back; seconds away from snapping. “Do you _really_ want to get into this now?” **  
**

“If not now, then when?” I shouted, realizing a second later that my own voice was rising in volume and strength to match Tony’s. “We have been running around it for _years,_ Tony, and then I lost you. I _lost_ you before I got the chance to tell you what we’ve both been ignoring for years and I won’t let that happen again. I _can’t.”_ **  
**

And Tony was looking at me, and it was like the gaze was the light to break up the dark that surrounded me, shattering into a million pieces and they all fell to lay at me feet- and I looked _back._ The waves flooding my lungs with a suffocating sense of _want._ **  
**

Before the events that led to both of our deaths, before the biggest catastrophe that has ever hit earth, I never would have the courage to do this. To be the first to approach this and acknowledge the thing that is always hanging in the air around us, that used to be the touches that left skittering lightening across our skin in wake of fingers, of brushing hands or arms around loosened shoulders; like particularly heavy rain clouds that were bursting open every time we came together, only to abruptly be turned off the second we parted ways. **  
**

But now, as he watches me like a predator hunting his prey, every tiny flinch of movement calling for his attention and he gave it with an intense stare before his eyes moved back to watch mine; I _knew_ I wasn’t alone in this. That the lighting hadn’t simply played a large part in what I thought I’ve seen, that it wasn’t just a play on my imagination and was an _actual_ thing. **  
**

I feel a flare of something needy, something hot and warm pooling in my stomach and I wondered for a belated second if Tony knew what he did to me with that stare? If he knew what he could make me _do?_ It’s like a high, almost. The flutter of his eyelashes as his eyes become hooded a direct hit from the pipe sitting firmly between my lips left parted and gaping, each inhale sharp and paired with a thundering thud of my heart. **  
**

He was my drug, my high, my good as it gets and how pathetic did that make me? **  
**

“I can’t keep pretending that every night this week, I haven’t stayed awake, wondering how it would feel to be wrapped in your arms again.” _Too much,_ my brain warned, _too much too soon. Retreat before you get hurt._ “I’ve wanted- I’ve _needed_ you to hold me, Tony, and what does that day about me? That the very thing I want, is the only thing I can’t have?” **  
**

His eyes drift down my face and over my body, so intent it leaves the sensation of a touch, of an actual caress that leaves my body aching for more. **  
**

“Peter,” he warns, jaw clenching as his own strength wavered, his resolve bending with each word I said, like it was an iron bar straining beneath the force, “you don’t know what you’re doing, what you’re asking for.” **  
**

“Don’t I?” I asked, “it isn’t the same thing I’ve been asking for for years? Seven here and nearly twenty five in the Realm of Souls?” **  
**

He flinched at the years I yet again gave a number, his eyes falling into soft brown orbs that replaced his earlier look of the need to ravage and claim. “You spent twenty four years there?” He asked, and I didn’t know how he could do that, go from talking of something that held the weight of the world with no real intention of being emotional, to dropping his facade and the conversation in favor of picking up the kicked puppy we’ve been neglecting and pampering it with a few words; just enough of an acknowledgement to keep it loyal and waiting. **  
**

“I did,” I confirmed in a voice that closely resembled a sob, “and do you want to know _what_ happened there? In the world Thanos singled me out in and made to conform to my own idea of hell?” **  
**

The shake of his head didn’t stop the molten lava pouring from my mouth like a volcano that had freshly erupted. **  
**

“He used _you, Tony._ He used my biggest weakness against me, knowing I didn’t have the balls to go against him because I’ve always been afraid of nothing else but losing _you._ I watched from the back rows for twenty four years as you loved and chose everyone but me. As you fucked around with girls and guys younger than me, all bearing some resemblance to me but it was never _me._ You fucked them knowing I could hear you, and sometimes, _sometimes,_ you wouldn’t even show a little bit of mercy and you’d fuck them knowing I would wind up walking in. And do you want to know what you’d do then?” **  
**

He looked completely horrified, which, _good._ **  
**

“You would apologize, and give me some excuse but it was always the same thing over and over again. You would flirt, and lead me on, then sleep with someone else and as if that wasn’t enough for the years that it happened, I had to watch as _you fell_ in love with Pepper. As you gave her the life we would talk about while locked away in the lab, and you made me feel so fucking _worthless_ in your absence but for some reason, a second in your presence made it all worth it and Tony, do not _tell_ me I don’t know what I’m asking for,” **  
**

I was heaving, bared, all the weakest parts of my crumbling heart out on display; the structure crumbling in the silence that followed and I thought I would feel better, that the admittance would erase the power the words held and the weight of it all would lift from my shoulders. Instead, it brought a vulnerability that peeled away my skin and I had nowhere to hide. Nothing to shield me from his gaze; nothing that was just _mine_ anymore. **  
**

I just offered everything I had to him, and what was I going to do when he declined it? **  
**

“I-I wouldn’t,” he whispered, and I wonder if he was speaking just because he felt the need to, the need to reassure himself he wasn’t that kind of monster. “Peter,” And his voice was thick now. Weighted. Drifting into the territories of no return as it lured the rest of my words out of me. **  
**

“Don’t,” I said, and this time it was me who was begging for silence, “Don’t say anything. You don’t have to. I-I know this is all one sided, or at least it is to the extent that I’m feeling things. So I’ll save you the pain. We can go back to pretending nothing happened. I just needed to _say_ it.” **  
**

“I don’t want to forget,” **  
**

“I’m offering you an out, Tony. Take it,” **  
**

“No, Peter, you don’t get to unload all of that on me and not expect me to need a minute to collect my thoughts so just shut up for a second and let me… let me _think._ ” **  
**

So, I did. And a second turned into a minute, a minute into three and I finally gave up and moved to stand, only to have Tony grab hold of my wrist and my entire body tensed at the familiar hold. This was the first time he’s _touched_ me. **  
**

The realization brought a new wave of tears that I wasn’t expecting. **  
**

“I can’t,” he whispered, jerking his arm back like the touch had physically burned him. **  
**

And that, _that_ I expected. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. **  
**

“I wanted nothing more than to touch you this entire week,” Tony admitted, and now it was his turn to bare himself, “since I woke up. Before, I had this grand idea of never touching you, giving you the chance to grow up and detach yourself from me and find out who you were as your own person. I am _wrong_ to want this (a vague gesture between our bodies), Peter, and you can’t understand how these… feelings make me _feel._ You aren’t a child, but I met you when you were fourteen. When you were still obsessed with legos and tests were your biggest worry.” **  
**

A wry chuckle, breaking the moment as he ran fingers through his hair and gave a loud groan. “But all you have to do is _ask_. That’s all you’ve ever had to do, Peter. I pride myself on being a powerful man, but when you say _please,_ I feel like I am the most powerless man on this planet.” **  
**

 _I own him_. As if I didn’t already know that, in a way. **  
**

“Please?” I begged, uncaring that I would seem desperate as I scrambled to my knees in a clumsy crouch. “Touch me, _hold me._ Tell me everything will be _okay.”_ **  
**

He didn’t say anything, and neither did I. We just stared at one another for a second, then another one. And another and— **  
**

He lunged forward the exact second I did and in a mess of arms and heads and limbs becoming entangled, he was engulfing me in his arms as mine wound around his neck and I just _held on,_ my legs a powerful constriction on either side of his thighs, knees digging into the back of the couch as I practically sat in his lap _._ **  
**

Afraid the second I let go, that he would disappear. That the warmth that just returned in a flood of heat, would leave. **  
**

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered, over and over again in my ear as he placed kisses across my forehead, trailing down my jaw and the final one rest on the shell of my ear as he breathed, “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry. It’s okay. Everything _will_ be okay,” **  
**

And finally, **  
**

_Finally,_ **  
**

That didn’t feel like a lie. **  
**

~~~ **  
**

Me being the main physician during Tony’s recovery, due to my knowledge on the technology that seemed to be thriving as day by day they witnessed as Tony became stronger and stronger until he was almost indistinguishable from the old him, meant that a lot of moments came in heated rushes that left us both panting just from being so close together. The clouds that hung over us, heavy and wet but still crackling with unreleased lightning, were now _slowly_ cracking open. Fluffy piece by fluffy piece. Touch by touch. **  
**

It was nearing the month mark of Tony’s return, which was conveniently a day before he decided the big press conference was to be aired and hosted. **  
**

The day had started out as every other one did; the avengers eating breakfast in the kitchen that easily became crowded but nobody commented on it and they easily got lost in mindless chatter. Tony’s touches became more frequent, as if he was reassuring himself with ever squeeze, brush and lingering touch that I was _real_ and our talk hadn’t been a complete night borne from fiction and fantasy. **  
**

So many times we have found ourselves drawn close together, nearly completely pressed in an alignment of two separate bodies merging into one, lips hovering over one another but one thing or another always broke us apart. Rather it be someone interrupting, or an item falling and drawing us from the moment or something as stupid as Friday feeding back a quick report on their latest scan on Tony’s vitals or Tony’s moralities catching up with him and he stopped it before he could truly take advantage of _me._ **  
**

As if I wasn’t the one initiating ninety percent of it. **  
**

I was growing frustrated and with my frustration came the dawning moment when I realized exactly what today’s checkup required. What his one month _meant._ **  
**

“You’ll um,” I found myself stuttering as I hovered by the still open door, afraid of I advanced even a step forward that my self control would peel away and I’d pounce the moment I was given opportunity and interruptions be damned, I’d get what I _wanted,_ “you’ll have to strip, n-naked,” and fuck, my voice had gone incredibly squeaky, surpassing even a hormonal teenager who was just now going through puberty. **  
**

I’d seen him naked, on more than one occasion. I’d built his body inch by inch, using sole memories and holographic scans and measurements to get each place perfectly proportioned to match his previous body, but for some reason, this felt entirely too intimate. Even if I was simply checking over his stats, his healing generation and his progression. **  
**

Yet, even with that knowledge pounding at my skull, I still had to look away when he gave a seductive smirk. “That the best you can do kid?” He asked, followed by the sound of a clothing item falling to the floor. “If you wanted me naked, all too had to do was ask,” **  
**

_But all you have to do is ask. That’s all you’ve ever had to do, Peter. I pride myself on being a powerful man, but when you say please, I feel like I am the most powerless man on this planet._ **  
**

His words from weeks ago rang fresh in my ears, and I blushed. “I-I did ask,” I countered, testing the water with a teasing toe dipped in. “Or rather, I stated. I need to make sure everything is…” **  
**

“Right, right,” Tony cut me off, “taking all the fun out of my attempt at dirty talk.” **  
**

My eyes grew wide, and I spun to face him only for a squeak to lodge in my throat when I saw he was completely naked, unashamed as he lifted his arms with a grin. “So, where now, kid? Do you want me sitting, bent over the table, or perhaps against the wall?” He grinned darkly, challengingly, “I’ve never been… examined against the wall.” **  
**

And I so badly wanted to correct him with “ _yes, you did. In Thanos’ planet,”_ but that was a _definite_ mood killer. **  
**

“Sittings fine,” I muttered, all courage zapped from my body as I grabbed the iPad off the table and avoided looking from the waist down as I worked on the upper part of his body. Making notes and small tallies as I checked everything off, going over the color of his skin to the sensitivity he portrayed to certain objects and how his reflexes were, keeping it all pg-13 and completely above the waist. I was hands off the entire time, doing what I could with the necessary tools until I pricked him with the last needle and took a sample of his blood, now a bright red color and beautiful compared to the dark red it had been during the initial process of pumping it into him. **  
**

Then I was forced to move onto his muscles and ligaments, pressing into his shoulders and biceps with searching fingers to feel if there were any tears or mistakes I didn’t catch before. My fingers were brushing across the span of his back, down to the swell of his bare ass before I worked my way around the front and began my search there. Across his torso, up to his naval before they drug across the pecs that danced and tensed beneath my touch and I wasn’t completely naive. I knew how this was affecting him, me. **  
**

We were panting in sync, me lost to the prospect and opportunity at actually _feeling him,_ alive and warm and reacting to my touches like I had craved someone would for years, and him to the sensation of my unskilled but perfectly steady fingers tracing patterns and pictures into his skin; marking him with invisible ink and daring him to try and wash it off. To replace the feeling I generated with a few touches. **  
**

The purely medical and scientific touches quickly became something a _little_ more… desperate as I ran them down the curve of his side just to see how he’d react, and I got a shiver followed by a muffled groan as he bit into his bottom lip. Seemingly innocently I massaged the muscles of his upper thigh, steering clear of what laid beneath the crumpled shirt Tony had put over it half way through our session, and preened when Tony moaned in approval and slide further off the table to give me more access to _him._ **  
**

I worked my way across his entire body, searching each and every curve and dip, where the bottom of his spine curved and arched if enough pressure was applied. Discovering the planes of his skin like they were the familiar roads of New York; claiming the canvas that had been unmarked, perfectly untouched, for… well, it’s entire existence. **  
**

But I must have pushed a little too far, gotten a little too courageous, as my hand brushed a little too high up on the inside of his thigh because he froze and a hand, which had been previously gripping the bed with a force that was sure to leave bent hand prints, shot out to grab my wrist. **  
**

“Don’t,” he barked, and his voice was so incredibly low, sluggish and thick, lust swirling dominantly around his vocal cords. He cleared his throat, scooting back away from my touch. “Was that all? Did you get what you needed? Am I good to go?” **  
**

_So many fucking questions._ **  
**

I jumped back a foot, putting space between us in an attempt to slow down my pulse as I inhaled a greedy, albeit very shaky, deep breath. “I did,” I whispered, voice strained. “S-Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” I gestured vaguely at his body, like that completely finished my thought, fed into the lame apology of how I’d more or less molested him. **  
**

_Oh god._ **  
**

It only then occurred to me that he never told me to _stop._ **  
**

And when I finally looked at him, he was completely unhinged. Eyes hooded and pupils dilated, the brown a barely there ring as the black dominated the entire orb and he was heaving in lungfuls of air, the caving of his stomach drawing his abs in tightly as they constricted his muscles that I now knew how they felt when they clenched beneath my fingertips. **  
**

_I just touched Tony Stark’s naked body._ **  
**

And fuck, if that wasn’t a wet dream in itself. **  
**

His desire burned away the veil of self control and he was gazing at me now, the intensity like none other id ever felt from him and my skin flushed hot. “Don’t you dare apologize for _any_ of this, understood?” **  
**

It wasn’t a question, but rather a command, and I happily nodded. **  
**

But; **  
**

Suddenly drunk on courage, I took a swaying step forward and placed my hand on Tony’s shoulder, allowing him to be my anchor and meld me to this spot as I caught his gaze, forcing him to crane his neck back to look up at me which was _refreshing._ “You’re not a kid anymore,” he commented, a little surprised, as his eyes traced the light stubble scratching across my chin, reminding me it’s been a few days since I last shaved. **  
**

“I thought we already established that,” I teased, but couldn’t help but notice he didn’t push my hand away. If anything, he leaned in to the touch. **  
**

“I missed the opportunity to witness you grow,” he whispered, the flicker of hurt replacing the burning embers of arousal in his eyes. **  
**

“You didn’t,” and apparently talking above a whisper was unacceptable, “I wasn’t a kid when you met me, Mr. Stark-“ something I called him just to tease him because it absolutely flustered him, “I had already been through so much, and grew up too quick. If anything, _you_ are the reason I continued to grow. You gave me the opportunity to be here, where I stand today.” **  
**

I didn’t mention I’d been heavily suicidal when Tony first found me, because some things were better left unsaid. **  
**

“Don’t say that,” his nose wrinkled, an oddly adorable feature, “makes me sound like your dad,” **  
**

“I don’t tend to molest the father figures in my life,” **  
**

Tony snorted, “God, I hope not. I already have enough reasons to lock you away in this tower and never let you leave, don’t add horny dads to the list,” **  
**

“I wouldn’t object,” **  
**

Tony’s eyes instantly grew dark. “No? You wouldn’t mind being my modern day Rapunzel? Letting down your web every night to whisk me up into the tower?” **  
**

I giggled, and with the noise came the realization of how _close_ we were. Chests inches from touching with me stood between his legs, our groins nearly pressed flush together. Tony must have noticed, too, because his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip and he whispered, “Peter,” in yet another warning tone but fuck it. I was tired of being _warned._ Of being cautious. **  
**

“Tony,” I whispered, “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say it. Tell me to stop. And I will.” **  
**

He didn’t. **  
**

With a burst of courage coming out of literally nowhere, my hand slide from his shoulder to cup the back of his neck, fingers lacing into the silky curls that sat at the nap and I tugged lightly, testingly. He grunts like it hurts, then in a clash of teeth and noses, he was kissing me _hard_ and I was kissing back, pulling as tightly at his hair as I could without causing physical pain. **  
**

His tongue thrust into my mouth, exploring and dominating, taking control over the pace and propelled it off a cliff as his hands fisted my hair and I gave a muffled groan in return, both of us breathing through our noses because we refused to part ways. It was fervent, desperate in the way he pulled me in tighter, pressing us closer together as his arm wound around my back in an iron grip, refusing to let go or loosen his hold even when we broke apart. **  
**

Our foreheads pressed together, neither one of us willing to pull back completely as we inhaled the others scent; their taste. I was lightheaded and aroused, the flush of my skin an obvious sign if not for the slight bulge in my trousers that was easily hidden from Tony’s awareness as I subtly angled my hips away from his own crotch. **  
**

Tony tasted like syrup and mint, with the hints of something dark and alluring in the clash of his tongue against mine. The taste easily branding itself into my memory, quickly becoming my most favorite thing in the world. **  
**

“Well,” Tony panted after a second of silence, “I can honestly say no doctor has ever treated me with that level of dedication before,” **  
**

“I’m not a doctor,” I remarked weakly, knees mirroring a plate of jello that had just been shook with a force, completely upsetting the wobbly foundation and I was _not_ pleased when I found Tony’s arm was wrapping around my waist and pulling me in closer, baring my weight which resulted in us being pressed together from groin to chest, nothing in the space between us but the fabric of my shirt and the very, _very,_ thin fabric of my pants and Tony’s crumbled shirt. **  
**

_Well, Christ._ **  
**

And before either of us could react, could prepare ourselves for the sudden pop of our bubble, Friday was alerting us with, “Dr. Banner is requesting access to the room. Shall I let him in?” **  
**

And I didn’t know when the fuck she initiated a lock down on the room, but I was beyond grateful as both Tony and I jumped apart, him attempting to pull on the scratchy hospital gown that laid on display at the end of the bed that had _always_ been an option but it _somehow_ slipped my mind. **  
**

I was panting, nearing hyperventilating with awareness a sharp trickle of sweat racing down the length of my nose as I fixed my ruffled hair, straightened the wrinkles in my clothing and gulped in a lungful of air to sooth the erratic breathing. **  
**

We were doing nothing illegal, but just because it wasn’t illegal didn’t mean it was necessarily right to allow someone to walk into a room while you were practically dry humping a more or less robot you’d created from scratch. _Because that was a normal sentence._ **  
**

Not commenting on how neither of us were practical people, nor normal, I turned to Tony and offered him a once over, giving a nod in approval as the man sagged back onto the bed. “Let him in, Friday.” **  
**

“Jesus, what were you guys doing in here? Building Tony a new body?” Bruce said as soon as he walked in, the state of the two men before him going completely over his head as he smiled at them. “How’s his progress?” **  
**

And before I could answer, or remove the cement brick from its place on my tongue, Tony was wiping the evidence of dust off his lips as he flicked his own brick in a random direction and gave me a warning look. “Peter here was just attempting to explain my sexual anatomy and stamina. I was curious if I could do everything I could as a human, now.” **  
**

“I hope not,” Bruce deadpanned, glancing between the both of us. “The last thing we need is an immortal Tony Stark with an increase in stamina and the ability to—“ **  
**

“Calm down there, Hulkie. Before you interrupted, he was in the process of— why don’t _you_ tell him, Peter,” and the smirk Tony offered in my direction was a show of his own sick, personal gratification. **  
**

He didn’t want me to talk, and now he _did?_ **  
**

I smirked in return. Two could play at that game. Maybe I couldn’t move my piece right now, but I would. “I was explaining to Tony that although his body _is_ not technically human, he was created to mirror one. In every aspect. He is only a month old, in technical terms, which means his stamina is complete shit and it will take months before he can build it back up. As for everything else, I’m afraid he will be just as he was before. I made him an… _immortal_ that could die, not an immortal that was a sex machine.” **  
**

Though one could dream. **  
**

Immortal sounded wrong, however. Not that Tony seemed to mind the word, because he was grinning from ear to ear, seemingly unfazed by the entire world and that he was as much a Virgin as I was. **  
**

He _wasn’t_ immortal. He wouldn’t age, but he could die just as I could. It would take effort, but it wasn’t impossible. **  
**

“How is that good news?” Bruce asked. “Tony before _was_ a sex machine. Hell, I’m surprised he only ended up with one kid. Tell me you at least didn’t create a genetically mutated version of his Sperm.” **  
**

My face paled for a second, Tony’s eyes going incredibly wide as he gave a subtle shake of his head and I knew what he was saying. “No,” _It wasn’t a complete lie,_ “I didn’t _create_ sperm.” **  
**

But that didn’t mean Tony didn’t freeze an entire fucking bank of his sperm, which were then planted in his… er, _balls,_ when he was being created. I didn’t lie when I said I made him _human._ He was able to reproduce, just as he had been before. With kids that would be biologically his. **  
**

Bruce groaned. “You didn’t,” **  
**

“I didn’t what?” My eyes darted to Tony, who was looking down at his feet. What a real comfort. **  
**

“I can’t believe you made him sperm! It’s not like he couldn’t live without it.” **  
**

“I didn’t make him sperm!” I argued. “He fr-“ **  
**

I was cut off by a loud giggle, both me and Bruce turning to face Tony who was visibly shaking as he bit his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle his laughing as he bowed his head further to hide his amuse flared skin. “What’s so funny?” Bruce snapped. “He just made you an immortal sex machine capable of having kids. How is that _funny._ Two hundred years from now the entire world will be repopulated with all of your kids.” **  
**

I cringed at the idea of Tony living to see two hundred years from now and by then I would be long gone. I wouldn’t be here to make sure he didn’t become wreckless in his reproduction, and he seemed to have caught my drift because he smiled soft, secretive, like the lines between his eyes were a story I was meant to read but the words were too blurred. **  
**

_I won’t ever leave your side._ **  
**

“You’re arguing about my sperm,” Tony said, watching me but his eyes flicked to Bruce for a second. **  
**

Bruce blanches at the realization, and immediately set down the iPad he’d picked up. “We will never discuss this conversation,” he hissed, “or I’ll make sure to include what I seen through the _open_ window blinds,” **  
**

He jerked his thumb towards the window and my stomach fell to rest in my shoes when I saw the blinds were indeed open, and whoever had been in the lab previously had gotten _quite_ a good show. **  
**

Tony didn’t seem fazed, at least not with the thought of being seen naked, pressed against me. “I hope you got your money's worth, Banner, because it was a one time thing.” **  
**

And did that… did that mean?? **  
**

“It won’t happen again,” and his eyes focused on _me_ this time. The twitch of his lip relaying a hidden message in the words. **  
**

“It was none of my business, therefore, I’m not getting into this,” Bruce groaned, smartly leaving after he made a show of closing the curtains. **  
**

Leaving me and Tony alone, and suddenly I felt sick in his presence. “W-What do you mean?” **  
**

“Exactly what I said, kid,” Tony murmured, “this, _that,_ can’t happen again. I told you I had this grand idea about not touching you. That’s obviously fucking impossible, but that doesn’t mean I need to fuck your life up further by.. feeding into _this.”_ **  
**

“ _This,”_ I echoed in a hiss, “Call it what it is, Tony. What you’re afraid to acknowledge.” **  
**

I could see he was scared. A poorly hidden emotion that knitted his eyebrows. “There’s nothing to acknowledge. You have your hero worship thing, and I have my damsel in distress thing. It’ll be out of our systems in a few weeks.” **  
**

I knew what he was doing, knew anything I said in retaliation would be feeding into exactly what he wanted, but I was _hurting._ “After _all_ of this?” I whispered, frustrated as tears began to cloud my vision. I refused to give him the satisfaction of watching them fall. “After all we’ve been through and you still can’t acknowledge that this is _something?”_ **  
**

He remained silent, unblinking, face blank. **  
**

“You lead me on for _years,_ Tony, and now that you’re back, you do the exact same fucking thing. I should’ve known you were too much of a coward to do anything about it,” **  
**

And the tears began to fall but I wiped them away as quickly as I could, the air becoming thinner around me with every breath I took. **  
**

“This was really shitty of you,” I choked, and before he could stop me, I was running out of the room and going straight for my own. **  
**

Feeling worse than even Thanos’ planet had ever made me feel because now I _knew_ what he felt and tasted like. I had something valid and _real_ to miss. **  
**

~~~ **  
**

“Peter?” _Ow._ **  
**

Okay, the pounding was in my head, not the actual world. **  
**

“Peter?” The adamant voice pressed, followed by my bed dipping behind the curve of my spine. **  
**

I wanted to tell them to leave, that I needed to be alone, but my voice cracked in effort and nothing more than a pitiful “Ah,” came out. Apparently crying all night and screaming into the echoing void Friday could create when she soundproof the room, _wasn’t_ good for your voice. Or your throat. Or your head, for that matter. **  
**

“The press conference is in an hour,” she continued now that she knew I was awake, pity in the dance of her fingers through my hair. “After your stunt with Venom, apparently your carelessness lead to half photos of your face being released to the public. Pepper has a meeting scheduled for twenty minutes from now to discuss her plans of action with you, but I figured I’d give you a heads up.” **  
**

I nodded in acknowledgment, immediately regretting it when the movement jarred my head and sent sharp pains throughout my temple, accompanied with faint ringing in my ears. I winced. “Coffee?” I forced myself to ask, cringing when I heard my own voice. **  
**

It sounds like I did when I attempted to deepthroat a dildo I’d bought as a teen to see _what_ the fuss was all about but I’d been a little too stupid and a little too careless to realize limits were a thing and stretching my throat behind its natural abilities resulted in a very, _very,_ hoarse voice. Only now it was heightened by ten fold, drawing the scratchy layers to the surface as my voice quivered with effort and remembrance. **  
**

I haven’t spoken to Tony since yesterday on the medical floor, not that either of us had attempted. I haven’t even left my room. Which called to my attention how Nat had even got in here. “Wanda is making a fresh pot,” she soothed, brushing the hair off my forehead in an awfully motherly way that had a new wave of tears springing to my eyes. “Hey, hey, hey,” she whispered, alarmed as she moved up my bed a little to lean over my body. “What’s wrong?” **  
**

“Nothing,” I croaked, an obvious lie but I didn’t- _couldn’t_ get into this right now. “I just have a headache,” **  
**

Not buying it, Nat eyes me for a few seconds before she frowned deeply. Obviously displeased with whatever she seen in my face. “Why don’t I tell them you’re sick? We can hold off on the meeting.” **  
**

“No,” I shook my head, “I can handle it, really. I just have a small headache. I promise. I’ll be fine.” **  
**

She still didn’t believe me, the arch of her brow moving to hide beneath the strand of hair falling fronting of her eye. “You can talk to me, Pete. You know that, right?” **  
**

I offered a watery smile, lacing our fingers together and giving a firm squeeze in reassurance. “I know.” **  
**

She pursed her lips. “I won’t push you,” she said, “but when you’re ready, find me and I’ll kick his ass.” **  
**

I choked on the air that hissed in my throat and she grinned, standing from my bed. “By the way,” she began in her retreat, throwing a glance over her shoulder, “The watch you said qualified as junk, works.” **  
**

Then she was twisting something on her arm, and disappearing through the wall. **  
**

Leaving me reeling to grasp _what_ just happened and how the _fuck_ he did that until I remembered the watch that had came back with me from Thanos’ world. It was the newest design of it, one me and Tony had worked on. It tampered with the molecular structure of your body and mutated your atoms, allowing the easy passage between solid structures; fazing from one place to another without the limits of your physical body hindering your abilities. **  
**

I didn’t remember throwing it away, but then again, I didn’t remember _a lot_ from the first few weeks after my return. **  
**

Deciding I’d had enough with wallowing away in self pity, I climbed out of bed and took a quick shower before I debated on an outfit and decided to have a little fun. Tony didn’t want me, and that was fine. Didn’t mean I had to be the depressed little puppy he wanted me to be. I could.. I could bounce back. Or at least pretend to. **  
**

I grabbed my tightest fitting pair of skinny jeans and the black AC/DC shirt, nose wrinkling at the black on black ensemble but it hugged the curves of my body perfectly and if I had it, I might as well work it. **  
**

I put a little extra effort into my hair today, which translated into an actual comb brushing through it before I gave it a light tousled tease and deemed myself fit. I still felt like utter shit and my body was working to ease the headache now dull throbs licking my skull, but at least I didn’t _look_ it. **  
**

When I emerged from my room, it was to find an empty living room and and equally as empty kitchen that reeked of coffee. “Friday?” I asked, making my way towards the elevator. “Where is the meeting being held?” **  
**

“44th floor, room 337.” She answered immediately. “Would you like me to notify them of your arrival?” **  
**

“No,” I rushed, pressing the white button with “44” written on it. “Don’t tell them. Thank you.” **  
**

“No problem, Boss.”

My stomach clenched at the name. Friday was still mine, and had been for months, but it was something I couldn’t get used to. Apparently an AI couldn’t have complete control over another AI, so Tony refused to take back ownership of Friday even if he had as much access to her as I did, if not more considering he knew _everything_ about her. **  
**

I realized that arguing was pointless. **  
**

My confidence faltered with every step forward and by the time I reached the room, I was shaking with withdrawals from _feeling_ anything other than this empty hollowness that zapped everything from my body. With one last burst of courage, I opened the door and walked into the room, all eyes turning to me. **  
**

“Nice of you to join us,” Pepper said, completely genuine as she gestured across the room at the seat next to Tony. **  
**

I shook my head and sat down next to Nat, who offered me a white mug with coffee and I pretended I didn’t see the flicker of hurt on Tony’s face or the confusion on the rest of their faces. “I’m fine here, thank you.” Back to my throat sounding like it had been fucked raw by life itself. **  
**

“As you wish,” Pepper smiled. “Alright. First things first,” she scrolled through something on her screen, and with a swipe upwards, her phone was projecting a mirrored version of her phone in a 50 inch holographic screen above the table. “Your identity, Peter. Normally we would allow the press to go wild with speculations before the excitement died down, but it’s been months and they’ve still not let it go and apparently a few more photos have surfaced and I’m afraid they keep getting clearer and clearer.” **  
**

She scrolled through the photos on the screen, most consisting of chunks of my jaw or flashes of my eyes but the last one she stopped on was a complete body photo of me in the park with MJ that one day. Her back was to the camera, and I was mid transition from Venom, leaving half of my face visible and the other covered by what appeared to be black sludge, clinging to my nose and lips in a means to hide my identity even if I didn’t particularly care that day. I was surprised there wasn’t cleared ph- **  
**

“We’ve managed to pay off the rest of the people in the park who managed to capture a photo of you, and they’ve all signed NDA’s,” Pepper said, and there goes that thought process. “And we can continue to do so, leaving no room for your identity to be discovered. We can pay off the entire world, if that’s what you want. Or we can get behind this, and you can decide when your identity comes out. Fury suggested we do it today, during Tony’s big press conference, but it is completely up to you.” **  
**

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to do, Pete,” Tony said, and my eyes flickered to him for the first time since coming in the room. He looked tired, light bags under his eyes evidence of his late night and I really wish I didn’t feel a tug at my heart at the realization that he didn’t sleep. **  
**

But another part of me sneered at the sight of him, the part of me that wanted to live a life where I wasn’t in constant pain. The part fueled by petty. “What I want to do?” I clarified, and at the nod of his head, brisk and subtle, I scoffed. “At this point, what I decide is invalid. There is only one choice that is actually plausible. What I _want_ , I can't have.” **  
**

I held his gaze, knowing the double meaning to that stammer would be loud and clear and a second later, he was visibly gulping, guilt evident in his eyes for a split second before he looked away. **  
**

“Well what is it that you want, Peter? These aren’t your only two options.” Pepper shifted forward in her seat, offering a worried glance at Tony before she focused her attention back on me, taking note of my refusal to break eye contact with her ex. “Peter?” **  
**

“Nothing,” I rasped, shaking my head clear of the sudden hurricane of emotions that had been let free to run rampant in my head.. “It isn’t possible.” I added, shrugging softly. “I’ll do it today. Before Tony’s announcement, please. I need a second of my own in the spotlight before he’s shadowing me once again,” **  
**

And I _knew_ that was a low slash at Tony, but it felt _good._ **  
**

Across the table, I heard Bruce snort softly and whisper in a voice that would’ve only been heard by Tony if not for my spidey hearing, “This isn’t about the sperm argument, is it?” **  
**

I quirked a smile. _If only._ **  
**

“Are you sure? We can continue paving over-“ **  
**

“I’m sure.” **  
**

The “adults,” meaning anyone who _wasn’t_ twenty, all shared a look. “You do realize you’ll be in the spotlight from here on out? We can’t shield you once your identity is released to the public.” Steve said, like he hadn’t been a star in numerous videos shown throughout my school. Captain America, the spokesperson for gym and sex! **  
**

I knew it was rude to not make eye contact while talking, but I _couldn’t_ look up. Tony was being too silent and I could feel his gaze. I couldn’t meet it, no matter how much I wanted to. “I’m not asking you to. I'm ready.” And in truth, I suppose I have been for a while now. I was tired of hiding. **  
**

A heavy silence filled the air. **  
**

One heartbeat. **  
**

Two. **  
**

Three— **  
**

“Um, okay. Is there anything I should be aware of? Anything that could affect your public image?” **  
**

“Like?” I implored. **  
**

“A past lover who will come forward with stories, an embarrassing story that potentially has photos as proof, or anything of relation? Just anything that could tarnish your image as Spider-Man.” **  
**

I shook my head, lips pursed as I thought. “I’ve never been involved with someone romantically. I took Liz to the school dance, but that’s as far as my history extends. I’ve been..” _hung up on a man who doesn’t want me,”_ I was preoccupied with other things. My sexual frustration wasn’t a problem. As for the other things, I don’t think so? But I could be wrong. The only person I can think of that will try to come out with _any_ stories, is a kid I went to school with. Flash. He called me, “Penis Parker,” after I came out in seventh grade,” **  
**

Mentioning anything from The realm of souls didn’t seem valid. **  
**

Pepper made a few notes, her eyes quizzical as they regarded me in the next second. “Came out?” She asked. **  
**

“Yeah. I am bisexual,” I clarified, not at all ashamed to admit it. I so badly wanted to look at Tony, to see his reaction, but I refrained from doing so as my fingernails dig into the soft padding of my palm. **  
**

I was comfortable with who I was, with my sexuality. I’d never really been ashamed, or afraid of it. May raised me in an environment that was open and didn’t discriminate. She gave me the option of growing into the man I am today, so self assured in who I was regarding certain things. And my heart aches for the kids who didn’t have that support. Who were raised to believe they were _abominations_ because they loved the same sex. **  
**

She hummed. “I don’t see how that will be a problem. Tony came out years ago and it somehow made him more relatable. Apparently him liking men _and_ women, drug him back down to the same level as everyone else and made him more…” **  
**

“Human,” Rhodey offered. **  
**

“Human, yes. He has an entire fan page on twitter dedicated to his sexuality.” She said, like I wasn’t the one who had founded the group. **  
**

 _PrettyinPink23_ has been my username for _years_ on my secret twitter account, where I posted the things I never dared to on my one page. I haven’t been on it since before Titan, so I wasn’t sure if it was even still a thing. **  
**

“Ten out of ten wouldn’t recommend,” Nat said, “ninety percent of it is angled pictures of Tony’s ass from every sex tape he’s ever made.” She shuddered, suppressing a gag that made me giggle despite myself. “You should _never_ have to bare witness to a man’s asshole _that_ many times in _that_ many positions.” **  
**

 _I wouldn’t mind,_ I wanted to say, _in fact, I was the one who screen grabbed all the photos and posted them._ **  
**

But that was creepy, wasn’t it? **  
**

“The fact that you even made it past the profile picture of Tony in Hello kitty underwear has me questioning your sanity,” Sam said, jarring me from my thoughts. **  
**

“I wouldn’t even click the profile,” Bruce said, slumping back in his seat. **  
**

“What’s Twitter?” Steve asked, like he wasn’t currently one of the most followed people on the entire planet. Or at least he had been. I wasn’t sure now. **  
**

“Are we going to continue discussing my ass? Because I would be more than _happy_ to offer you all a one time show of seeing it as I kick you all out of _my_ tower,” Tony barked, a low growl in his voice that was teetering on playful and I _loved_ it. That sound. How it made chills race up my spine and need curl in my stomach. **  
**

The offer of seeing him naked, only drudges up the memories from last night and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the new wave of tears from springing into action. I was such an emotional weakling lately and I _hated it._ **  
**

“Then it’s settled,” Pepper said, cutting through the entire conversation so effortlessly, leaving it to never be brought back up. “Peter will make his announcement first, followed by Tony. Make sure you all wear something _nice._ A man only gets resurrected so many times,” **  
**

And that was that. **  
**

Hello Spider-Man, meet Peter Parker. **  
**

My throat clamped shut. **  
**

~~~ **  
**

Turns out, by nice, she didn’t mean my prior outfit. Which left me with… nothing. Not to mention I had been too nervous to even notice how tony reacted to seeing me in these clothes. I was tempted to ask Nat, but decided against it. She’d probably _hurt_ the man into reperforming his previous reaction just so I could witness it. **  
**

I grinned at the idea. **  
**

“Boss,” Friday said, cutting through my very vivid fantasies of exactly _how_ Tony would react, “Silvia is at the door.” **  
**

“Who?” I asked, popping up onto my elbows to eye my door cautiously. **  
**

“Silvia, a maid that is employed at the tower. She has a level two access, but was granted clearance to your room by Mr. Stark,” **  
**

“Why?” I asked, suddenly skeptical on _why_ Tony could possibly send a maid to my room. **  
**

“She has a package, Boss. Should I let her in?” **  
**

I sighed. “Yes,” **  
**

Without another word, the door opened and a small woman with pale skin and bright red hair that was twisted into a painful knot on top of her head, scurried into the room and laid a simple black box on the bed before she bowed and made her way out of the room. Offering no words in exchange, or no explanation. **  
**

I poked the box with my toe hesitantly before I finally opened it, finding inside was a three piece suit, dark grey with a pre-knotted midnight ivy tie laying to rest on top of the folded clothes with a small white card lain to rest on top of them. “ _TS”_ the front of the note read, and when I filled it over I found, “wear me,” written in the back. **  
**

And if he thought sending me a suit would excuse everything, then he was _sorely_ fucking wrong. But to prove to him that I was the more mature out of us, I would wear the suit. **  
**

And definitely _not_ because it was my exact size and I was in a sort of predicament that involved me wearing this, or showing up nude to the press conference. Pulling a literal Tony Stark. **  
**

~~~ **  
**

The cameras were overloading my senses, blinding me with each flash and with a guiding arm thrown over my shoulder, I was pulled off the stage and redirected through double doors before I was deposited into another pair of arms. The reveal had went exactly as expected. I climbed on stage, said who I was, the room erupted in a frenzy and cameras were flashing and people were yelling and—- I still couldn’t hear properly; couldn’t see beyond the white stars clinging to my vision. **  
**

“You did great!” The owner to the arms said, placing a chaste kiss on my forehead in a familial way that had warmth surge through my body. **  
**

“Thank you,” I whispered, nuzzling into the embrace for a second as I allowed my senses to calm down before I was pulling back and grinning down at May, or what I could see of her as the remaining flashes refused to leave my line of sight. **  
**

She’d came here to support me despite me shutting her out, completely, for months. No assurances I was okay, no calls just to catch up. I cut her out like I had never returned. “You know what this means now, right?” I asked, glancing up at Happy who stood in his usual defensive stance with his arms clasped in front of his body as he waited by the elevator for Tony to make his entrance in the lobby, “your bodyguard husband will have to put his specialties to use and _protect_ you. If I didn’t know Happy, and wasn’t sure he was capable, you’d already have an entire security detail railing you at all times. But promise me you’ll be safe? Cautious?” **  
**

She swatted at my arm as she scoffed. “As if I am anything but, Peter. Now enough about me and my protection! Get ready.” **  
**

“For what?” **  
**

“You’re going in the room for his announcement, aren’t you? I was told they cleared out a section in the back for all the avengers,” **  
**

And of _course_ it was expected of me to be in there. With him. **  
**

With a forced smile, I nodded and hooked her arm with mine. “Shall we, then?” **  
**

I wasn’t at all giddy with the entire idea of sitting in the same room as Tony, pretending as if nothing was wrong, but apparently that was _exactly_ what I was about to do as May and I were caught in the whirlwind of activity as soon as Tony stepped out of the elevator, offering me not even one look, and drug back into the conference room. **  
**

~~~ **  
**

“ _My return has nothing to do with god, and everything to do with the genius you all spoke to minutes prior. Peter Parker, who you all know now as Spider-Man, worked tirelessly to bring me back. I offered no more than a few crumbs in my departure, and he turned those crumbs into an entire loaf of bread. We are all truly lucky to live in a world where he is on our side,”_ **  
**

The words rang loud and fervent in my ears, refusing to leave or become replaced with the simple conversations I’ve tried holding with numerous people in the after party of the announcement, held on the penthouse floor where the large area was crowded with smiling faces, all pretending that they belonged here, amongst the expensive furniture and decor, planted in the middle of Tony’s life like they’d _always_ been there. **  
**

And one could only play pretend for so long. Could pretend that I too haven’t tasted the lips so many of them were discussing in hushed voices, many speaking in secretive whispers of their conquered night where they’d been whisked away to Tony’s bed and perhaps I was kidding myself. Maybe they _did_ belong and I was the one who was out of place. **  
**

Nat and Bruce spoke to me in passing, as well as numerous other people I didn’t care to pay attention to and I was nearing my hour mark without seeing a single lick of Tony when I finally decided enough was enough and began to make my way towards the elevator. My bed was calling to me, an alluring song tempting me with the promise of sleep and numbness. **  
**

Only for a hand to wrap around my upper arm, soft and feminine. “Peter,” Pepper whispered in my ear, the press of her body against mine as a man elbowed past her making me uncomfortably aware of her breasts pressed against the side of my chest and I was reminded, yet _again,_ why tony would always love her. She smelt heavenly, and looked completely divine in her simple, high yet professional cut dress that hugged her curves and clung to the swells of her breasts to show what she offered without removing her clothes. Her hair was tied into a bun on top of her head, carefully selected strands of hair left to lay against the side of her face in curls meant to frame. “Tony needs you,” she whispered, cautiously eyeing the man who stood in front of us. **  
**

“Why didn’t he get me himself?” I asked, ignoring the painful tug of my heart against my chest that began to rapid fire questions that I somehow managed to keep from spilling out. **  
**

_Is he okay?_ **  
**

_What's wrong?_ **  
**

_Where is he?_ **  
**

_Is he hurt?_ **  
**

“Because,” she hissed in a lowered voice, “he is currently being hounded by a handful of congressmen who are persistent on knowing things about Tony’s resurrection and how this will affect certain things that we’re not ready to address.” **  
**

“Okay?” I asked. “I still don’t see why he needs _me.”_ **  
**

“He just publicly declared you his creator, Peter. If you whisk him away with some excuse, nobody is going to question it.” **  
**

_Oh, so I was helping him play his damsel in distress part?_ **  
**

“What do you expect me to say?” I asked, entertaining her idea even though my body so desperately craved my bed. I didn’t sleep much last night and it was catching up to me. **  
**

“I have no idea,” she said, and I wasn’t aware we’d even been moving until she gave me an apologetic smile and pushed me forward with a soft, encouraging, “you’ll figure it out.” **  
**

I fell through a group of people and very nearly toppled on my face, which I would have if a hand hadn’t shot out to grab my bicep in a familiar barricade of fleshy fingers that I knew all too well. “Careful there, kid. I’ve had people fall in love with me but they don't tend to take the falling thing literally,” **  
**

Everyone laughed. **  
**

And I knew he was saying it for a show, trying to lighten to mood and make the people around them laugh, but _that_ struck a chord. And he must have caught on to his mistake because the grateful smile he was giving me melted away and panic dilated his pupils. “If you’ll excuse us,” I squeaked out of a closing airway, knowing I still had a part to play as I jerked my arm from his grasp and took a step back without looking. “I need to do a screening of Tony's blood panels to see if the alcohol he consumed tonight has affected anything that we may need to look out for in the future,” **  
**

With that lame excuse, and nothing else being offered , I turned on my heel and began a fast retreat from the group of people without even waiting for tony. “Peter!” He yelled. **  
**

I kept walking, faster now, desperate to get out of here without being stopped by another person. I wanted to sneak out without being noticed but that wasn’t _easy_ when the most watched man was chasing my tail and currently calling my name as every pair of eyes in the room tracked his every step forward. “Peter! Hold on,” **  
**

We only made it to the middle of the floor, but somehow he’d caught up to me and with a hand grabbing my shoulder, I fell pliant in the grip and allowed myself to be turned around so we were face to face. Nose to nose. Nearly chest to chest. His eyes roamed over my body in appreciation of the suit that admittedly looked incredibly good on me before his eyes found mine again. **  
**

“What, Tony? Want to make another joke for all these people to enjoy? Laugh about something that shouldn’t be laughed about?” I was seething, clinging to that anger because I knew seconds in his presence would somehow dismiss it without my permission and that _wasn’t_ going to happen. **  
**

He cringed. “Look, I’m sorry. When I’m cornered I say stupid shit and that was definitely something that qualifies as the shittiest thing I’ve ever said,” **  
**

“I’m not doing this here, Tony,” I hissed, putting on a smile in an attempt to portray a calmness that I didn’t feel, and it showed in the way the smile fell into a grimace I didn’t even try to hide. “You decided for the both of us what was best, and I am trying to respect that. So leave me alone, and stop sending me things,” I waved a hand down my body, “because it's not helping me let go of my _hero worship.”_ **  
**

He opened and closed his mouth, struggling to say anything in a whisper so others didn’t hear and I sighed, tired and just _drained._ “Save it. I let you play out your damsel in distress, so let me _go._ Just… goodbye, Tony,” **  
**

And I didn’t _like_ that. Not at all. It sounded too… permanent. Dismissive. But, still, I turned around to leave. **  
**

And this time, he didn’t follow. **  
**

*Third person* **  
**

It was in a streak of grey and a blur of blue that the two moved across the crowded floor, the moth chasing the flame and it was the witnessing of a tale as old as time being played out before them. A draw of feet pulling them closer, the movement of hands reaching to grab what they’d been denied and in a held breath, all the guests watched as Peter turned to leave, keeping hold of what little dignity he could as he squared his shoulders and walked towards the doors. **  
**

Leaving Tony dumbstruck and gaping behind him, the rise and fall of his chest fast and rapid and if one looked close enough, knew the lines of his face, they could see the pain sparkling like a happily worn shield of protection on his skin even if it was his biggest weakness. _Peter_ was his biggest weakness, and it had always been a known fact. A truth that was tiptoed around because if you didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t have any power. **  
**

Only now, as the strangers stood to witness the heated whispered exchange of words they couldn’t actually hear, they knew Tony had acknowledged it. **  
**

And he was running away. **  
**

“Fuck,” Tony uttered a few seconds too late, body defrosting as the doors swung close with a ring of finality in the clink of them latching back in to place, hiding Peter’s body from view and it was with a look directed in Peppers direction, eyes urging him to go on, to chase what was his, he was surging forward and chasing what he never should have even let go. **  
**

_I’ve needed you to hold me, Tony._ **  
**

_Touch me, hold me. Tell me everything will be okay._

And he’s already _fucked_ up. **  
**

Peter was a breath of fresh air into this dark, decrepit world that was long past being salvageable, but all hope didn’t seem lost with his beaming smile filtering through the smoke field halls and Tony’s life had been an absolute shit show those five years. Driving himself mad, drinking himself into oblivion where the pain of the real world didn’t exist and he didn’t have to _remember._ Didn’t have to acknowledge the empty space that filled his life so suddenly and so visibly, leaving his arms open in a hug he would never feel again, his heart crushed into a pile of dust he left on Titan. **  
**

And now, now, some parts of him wished he didn’t remember the bad of the world, the bad of his life because that meant he had to open himself up, bare all his deepest, darkest parts and acknowledge all the things he hated in himself before he could ever allow Peter the opportunity to _see._ To know the power his name held over his body, how the five lettered word was like a command to Tony’s body, striking it into action and any word following after was simply done to _please._ When peter was involved, he felt as fucking helpless as he did as a child, as he watched his father filter through his life like a leaf. Never bothering to cling to the scenes of his life and rather passing through as if he had no more claim over summer than he did fall. A season was pushing him on, pushing him forward, and in a way, in a _way,_ Tony could _understand._ **  
**

If he didn’t stick around, he didn’t hurt the person he was supposed to care most about, in the way he was bound to. Obviously the sting of rejection would feel as if death was a breath away, but it would pass and… it _had_ to pass. **  
**

But now, as Tony sprinted through the corridors, hunting and searching for what he already knew was gone, he _knew_ he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t allow Peter to forget, couldn’t continue to stuff these feelings with water in a hope they would become so weightless and detached that they drifted down the river like a snapped branch from a tree. He couldn’t become detached simply because he was afraid of _hurting._ **  
**

Peter may be his biggest fucking weakness, but in light of past and recent events, it was proven he was so much more. The draw of his legs forward, the beat of his heart, the whirring of his brain. Before death, for either of them, he’d been the call of humanity that had sparked in Tony’s heart and made him pause and listen to reason. He’d given him the _hope_ that maybe, if he washed his hands enough, he wouldn’t kill everything he’d touched. And it worked, for a while. Then Peter died in his arms and.. all hope was _gone._ **  
**

“Peter!” The desperation was ravaging his body, spiking his voice into high pitched shrills of panic as he rounded a corner and was greeted with yet another empty corridor. “Peter!” **  
**

But something was calling him forward, tugging him in an unknown direction through the maze of hallways, and he was directed to a stop in front of what used to be the gym before they expanded the towers and updated the gym to give it vaulted ceilings to accommodate Peter and his abilities, and Tony’s suits. **  
**

The lights were off, the room void of any life until, just before he closed the door, he heard quiet hiccups followed by a sniffle. “Remember?” He heard a voice ask, scratched with tears and quiet, “do you remember my first training session in here?” **  
**

And of _course_ Tony remembered. His heart picked up speed as he flicked on the light and the flood of bright, white electricity sparked images of Peter lying pale on the blue pads, leg bent at an ungodly angle and Tony could remember how quickly he’d reacted. How his suit hadn’t even completely peeled off his body before he was crashing down on the floor by his head, hand surprisingly tender and steady checking for the threadsy pulse he’d found seconds later as he _scream_ for someone to help. **  
**

He’d— he’d never felt so _helpless(Titan aside.)_ In the face of death, he could do nothing to help him. Couldn’t comprehend how to even move his own hands and it had been a mild concussion and sprained knee that had healed hours later, but _still._ That feeling— watching as the world fell in chunks of rocks and rubble to part ways and solidify the feeling of instability as it pushed him into the black hole that swallowed him whole and refused to allow him a chance to _anchor_ himself to anything solid because as long as Peter wasn’t okay, as long as his well being wasn’t a for sure thing, _nothing_ had to right to be drawn to a stand still. Nothing had the _right_ to make sense. **  
**

“I wish I didn’t,” Tony admitted, words drawn from his lungs in a clouded breath. Peter was crying, and it was because of _him._ Because of the shit show he called a life. **  
**

Brown eyes riddled with so many emotions that one simply couldn’t be picked out, moved to find Tony’s and despite himself, Peter’s lip quirked in a smile. “I’m sure you wished you could forget a lot of things.” **  
**

 _That’s not true,_ Tony wanted to hiss, _I don’t want to forget anything._ But, “I want to forget many things,” he said, taking a step forward like he was a magnet being drawn towards a fridge, refusing to break eye contact. “But none of them involve you. You are the main attraction in my most cherished memories, and I don’t think I can _ever_ make myself forget anything that involves you. Good or bad.” **  
**

Confusion flickered to life in Peter’s eyes, pain dominating the draw of his lips as he whimpered audibly. “Don’t say that,” he begged, “please, Tony. Don’t say that.” **  
**

_Time to go big or go home empty handed. To bare himself, dish out all his servings and leave only one secret left to hold and cherish._ **  
**

“But it’s true,” another step forward, another punch of his heart that was aimed directly at his gut, “and I was too stupid to accept it. I said things to hurt you because I couldn’t allow myself to be selfish. You’re… too _good,_ Peter. And I’m all that’s wrong in this world. Do you honestly think I could allow myself a taste of the cake when all I wanted was the entire fucking thing? That’s selfish. You should be allowed to have your experiences that don’t involve some old guy who’s so damaged mentally and physically that it took him your death to make him _realize_ the entire life that had laid dormant at his fingers that he’d never acknowledged before,” **  
**

“I’ve been with others,” Peter admitted, seemingly restraining himself from reacting, the draw of his shoulders a tell tale sign of how he was barely holding himself together; the promise the words held tempting but he couldn’t afford to be hurt again. So he didn’t acknowledge what Tony said, not all of it, anyway. “In Thanos’ world. I was with others,” and his voice was so _soft_ it hurt. “I-I needed to erase you from my mind, and I found the cure in strange's hands. I was only ever with a handful of people, but _none_ of them could _ever_ replace you, Tony. Do you not get that? That I want _all_ of you? The fucked up, emotionally stunted parts of you? The— _everything._ Time can’t erase what I feel and if wanting it makes me selfish, then so be it. I have given more to this universe than it has ever offered me and I think I deserve _my win,”_ **  
**

His _win._ Tony was his win and why was it that that admittance knocked the very breath from his lungs, had him stumbling over his feet in an ungraceful tangle of limbs that was so uncharacteristic it made Peter giggle, all stuffy nose and blotchy eyes. **  
**

“Out of all the battles I have fought in, all the wars I have stood front and center for, letting you walk out of that room yesterday was my _biggest_ regret.” Tony said, “and you have to understand I didn’t mean it. I-I didn’t mean it, Peter, and if you want me, then you can _have me._ I’m right here,” **  
**

He held his arms out to show that where he stood, was where he would remain. All scars bared, all flaws scratching away at the surface. He was _here_ , offering himself to a boy who was just as broken, and all he could hope for was that band aid he so desperately needed to keep him _together_. **  
**

Turns out, the band aid was really just a pair of lanky arms that wrapped around him in a grip that was almost mistaken as an echoed breath of his own anxiety and desperation; relief hung in the air like it belonged amongst the oxygen. “I’ve always wanted you,” Peter admitted, his lips pressed against the thumping pulse point on Tony’s neck. “I’ve wanted no one else _but_ you,” **  
**

And in some other world, where Peter was born years earlier, _maybe_ this could have been a story that wasn’t as faulty, wasn’t as rigged with the bumps of life. Maybe they could have a life that resembled a normalcy that was _almost_ considered healthy. **  
**

But in this world, Tony decided as he wound his arms around Peter, _this_ would do just fine. **  
**

Because he’s wanted Peter. **  
**

Always, and forever. **  
**

~~~ **  
**

And maybe, I decided as Tony presses into me with an urgency that matched a sloths, taking his time to feed inch by inch into my body, muffling his groans and my whimpers by keeping our mouths connected in a sloppy, lazy kiss; maybe I _could_ have a happily ever after. **  
**

Because right here, wrapped in this arms that hold me together as I fall apart beneath the body that clenches and moves rhythmically beneath my touch as he too comes undone, feels like _home._ **  
**

And I was never willing to let go again.

~~~

 

 


	5. NOT UPDATE

HELLO HELLO HELLO! I realize this is cruel, but for those of you who are new, or the ones who have already read this, I have officially posted book two! Check it out. :) 

(I'll be removing this little chapter when I post chapter 2 in the current book. Just posted here for the people who have bookmarked. 

#SOORRYYYYYY


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